Avengers ImaginesPreferences
by Aint It Fun
Summary: This is where I will write all the fantasies I have in my head revolving around this gang of heroes. I will absolutely take requests, but this will most likely not be updated frequently. Details inside! :D
1. Details

So this is gonna be almost identical to my 100 Imagines and Preferences book. I'm also very lazy so a lot of this will be word for word and copy and pasted from said 100 book...lol. Requests are welcomed and encouraged, but I have a few limits.

1\. I've seen pretty much all Marvel movies besides the last two Iron Mans. I know, I'm the worst. Working on it. That being said, I have not read the comics so everything I write will come from the movie world. And honestly, I'm going to make a ton of crap up because this is meant for fun and not a serious thing. So I apologize for any and all discrepancies or if I give someone a secret background that isn't technically real.

2\. No AU. I'm strongly against AU because I think it's a little insulting to pull these characters out of a world that's made them who they are and put them somewhere they don't belong. I really can't stand seeing Avengers thrown into high school/college scenarios. Just doesn't make any sense to me.

3\. Will I do smut? Abso-freaking-lutely.

4\. Characters I can write about: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Loki (not technically an Avenger but come on), Thor, Sam Wilson, and Scott Lang. I mainly only do OCs, but I'm also a big fan of throwing Darcy Lewis into a pairing.

In the next chapter, there is a list of prompts. Feel free to choose from the list (just let me know the number) or just make up your own. Please try and be detailed! The more I have to work with, the better the story will turn out. I can't write a decent story with only a name and a hair color, you get me?

Send me a PM if you want to make a request and just give me the following info:

Avenger of your choosing:

For your OC, I need a name and maybe a little description of appearance or personality although it's not really necessary:

Plot/Situation (Gimme your fantasy):

If you want anything else included just let me know. This is super general so we can work out the details together.

I'm done now, I swear.

Love you all!

-Nikki


	2. PromptsSituations

Feel free to choose from the list or make up your own! Just send me the number!

If you have an idea and want me to add it to the list, just let me know.

A lot of these are cute things because my guilty pleasure is writing Avenger fluff. Not even gonna lie.

1\. "Make me."

2\. "Are you about done yet?"

3\. "Try that again, I dare you."

4\. "You're mine."

5\. "If you mess this up, you're pretty much killing both of us. No pressure, though."

6\. Character A: "Well this is a nice change of scenery."

Character B: "It's a prison cell."

Character A: "I was being sarcastic."

7\. "Why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?"

8\. "Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture."

9\. "He loves you, can't you see that?"

10\. "Why do you even care? We're not together anymore."

11\. "Hey, how does a road trip sound?"

12\. Character A:"I want to go home."

Character B: "And I want to go to the moon. It ain't happening, sweetheart. Time to accept that."

13\. "I hope one day you're as happy as you're pretending to be."

14\. "I trusted you."

15\. "Please...don't leave."

16\. "Because I love you, god damn it!"

17\. "All I want is your happiness, but I can't stand to see you happy when it's not with me."

18\. "I couldn't leave without saying goodbye."

19\. "Shut up and come cuddle me, asshole."

20\. "It's raining and I'm in front of your house."

21\. "No. I'm not okay! I'm not. Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm a mess and it's all down to you."

22\. "I loved you. Hell, I still do. And you never even cared!"

23\. "You need help, damn it. Just let me do the right thing and help you!"

24\. "Out of the blanket fort. Now."

25\. "You're going to die if you do this and we both know that'll kill me too."

26\. "I'm not stupid. I hope you know I'm not completely oblivious to what you're doing."

27\. "I don't even know who you are anymore."

28\. "You saved me."

29\. "I can't do this without you."

30\. "You don't even know how long I've waited for this."

31\. "I just want my best friend back."

32\. "Look! You're an action figure!"

33\. "Are you sure you want to do this? Because there's no going back."

34\. "Out of everyone you could have chosen, why did you pick me?"

35\. "All of this sneaking around is going to get us in trouble."

36\. "I just want you to know that you were never alone."

37\. "Stop having loud arguments outside my door."

38\. "I can't always think of witty comebacks."

39\. "God damn it! Don't scare me like that!"

40\. "No, you look good with my shirt on."

41\. Character A and Character B are strictly friends with benefits until one of them accidentally admits to being in love with the other.

42\. The kiss tasted like tears.

43\. Character A gets jealous because Character B is getting a lot attention from someone else.

44\. Deep conversations

45\. Ranting about annoying things they both disagree on which leads to kissing and so on...

46\. Character A breaks a promise and Character B gives them the silent treatment leading to Character a getting down on their knees and begging for forgiveness.

47\. Character A teasing Character B like crazy.

48\. Character A stands up for Character B which leads to fumbled kisses and lots of touching.

49\. Cold temperatures force character into close proximity.

50\. In order to avoid a dangerous situation, both characters are forced to stay hidden in a small, enclosed space.

51\. Angry make-out session.

52\. "Everyone keeps telling me you're the bad guy."

53\. "I'm not a child so don't treat me like one."

54\. "That's the dumbest thing you've ever said."

55\. "You're definitely drunk."

56\. A sparring lesson leads to a heated make-out session.

57\. Character A and Character B are stuck in an elevator together.

58\. They were looking, but I didn't care. I ran to him.

59\. "It's okay. You don't have to love me."

60\. There was something about him. Something about the way he watched me.

61\. "This is why we can't have nice things."

62\. "With this smile I can get away with everything."

63\. "Okay I'll play. What self-created drama are you whining about now?"

64\. "You really have no idea who I am?"

65\. Character A has a secret admirer and can't figure out who it is.

66\. Character A: "Yeah, I have a plan."  
Character B: "Is it a good plan?"  
Character A: "I have a plan."

67\. Character A shows up wearing the memorabilia of a specific Avenger, making another Avenger noticeably jealous.

68\. Character A: "Do you even know how to drive this thing?"  
Character B: "Normally I'd lie and say yes, but considering I almost flew us into that building I'm going to assume you know the answer."

69\. "You're a goddamn super hero, alright? And I'm...me. Why would you ever want me?"

70\. "One more chance, please. I'll get on my knees and beg if I have to."

71\. Character A has been having coffee with Character B every morning for weeks when it's suddenly revealed to them that Character B doesn't even like coffee.

72\. Character A needs a hero and calls on one of the Avengers to kill a particularly disgusting spider.

73\. "I could do things to you that would make you forget every single word except my name."

74\. "Get your ass over here and kiss me."

75\. Character A comes home to find Character B fast asleep in their bed for unknown reasons.

76\. Character A: "We're bad at dating."  
Character B: "Yeah, but we're really good at kissing."

77\. Character A and Character B have their first kiss during the first snowfall of the year.

78\. A shooting lesson/target practice that involves a lot excessive touching and heavy flirting."

79\. Character A wanders into the kitchen for a midnight to snack only to find someone else already there. A particularly good looking someone who has decided to go shirtless.

80\. She called his name in silence, like he'd actually hear her. Like he'd actually care.

81\. Character A is called away to an important mission, interrupting a heated almost first kiss with Character B. Character A shows up in the middle of the night some time later with this: "Now where were we?"

82\. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

83\. "Don't you ever do that again!"

84\. "Don't you dare throw that snowba- goddamnit!"

85\. "I think we need to talk."

86\. "The paint's supposed to go where?"

87\. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

88\. "Just once."

89\. "Marry me?"

90\. "It's not what it looks like…"

91\. "I'm in love with you."

92\. "You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."

93\. "What the hell are you wearing?"

94\. "Can I kiss you?"

95\. "Teach me to fight."

96\. "I can't stand the thought of losing you."

97\. "Tell me to go and I will, but if you ask me to stay I'll never leave you again."

98\. "It's only one night, we'll just share the bed."

99\. "Stop running from this. I know I'm not the only one who feels it."

100\. "The only thing I want is you."

101\. "We shouldn't be doing this."

102\. "Kiss me, quick!"

103\. "You were never just my friend."

104\. "It's always been you."

105\. "What do you want me to say?"

106\. "I want you, and I know you want me too."

107\. "I bet I can make you scream my name."

108\. "I tried, but I just can't stay away from you anymore."


	3. Elevator- Steve Rogers

**Character:** Steve Rogers/Captain America

 **Prompt:** Character A and Character B are stuck in an elevator together.

 **Warnings:** Just some good ol' star spangled fluff.

From my desk inside Stark Tower, I had a perfect view as the storm rolled in over the city. Dark clouds swirled ominously overhead and rain pounded the window relentlessly. I stared glumly from behind my desk, feeling a tad bit deflated as I realized I'd be riding my bicycle home in the middle of a torrential downpour. For a moment, I almost regretted turning down Mr. Stark's offer of a company car. The last thing my clumsy ass needed, though, was to be driving through the streets of downtown in a flashy, luxury car that worth more than anything I ever owned, or would own in the future.

"Well, shit." I sighed, drumming my fingers on the desk. The time on my watch told me it was already ten past the hour. Normally I was already halfway to the elevator before the clock struck six. I didn't mess around when it came to quitting time. I was pestered constantly about this...apparently it made me look like a person who just couldn't wait to get away. Ironically, that wasn't the case. I liked my job. Hell, I probably loved it. I was a tech assistant to one of the most intelligent, wealthiest, not to mention cockiest, men in the entire world. This was a dream job. However, I was a normal human who also valued my time spent outside of work. Meaning, I also didn't mess around when it came to a good take-out meal and Netflix.

At the moment, though, I was in no hurry to try and ride my bike through a tsunami. I shut down my laptop and scribbled a little note to myself about what I needed to get done for the next day, slapping it down on the stapler near my desk, where I knew I'd see it bright and early the next morning. I pulled my blonde hair back into a low pony tail and shrugged on my jacket, applauding myself a little for at least wearing something with a hood. Lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, followed by an impressive and scary clap of thunder. I let out a yelp, jumping. I quickly looked around and was relieved no one was around to have seen it. Rain I could deal with. Thunder and lightning, though, not so much. I had this bizarre fear that I was going to get struck by lightning every time I stepped outside during a storm or had the courage to hop in the shower. Thunder just scared the shit out of me for the simple reason that it was loud...a childhood fear I'd never quite grown out of. Why else would a twenty-nine year old woman be barricading herself under a layer of quilts and pillows and closing all the blinds and stuffing earbuds in her ear every time it stormed?

Unfortunately, though, I was stuck at work. Which meant I was missing the safety of my bed and my blankets. I pulled my earphones out of my backpack, though, and stuck them into my ears. Seconds later, I was plugged into my phone and Billy Joel's 'Uptown Girl' was drowning out the thunder. The perfect distraction. How could anyone be afraid of a storm when you were singing along to a classic?

I twirled like a ballerina and headed out of the office door. I waved at a few other techies finishing up some work and made a beeline for the elevator. I hit the down button and seconds later, the sleek metal doors slid open. Inside, it was empty. I stepped inside and let myself be enveloped by the floor to ceiling glass walls. The sky outside was almost black and another flash lit up the sky. I turned up the volume on instinct to drown out the crack of thunder that was sure to follow.

I hit the button for the first level and as the doors slid shut, I closed my eyes. I hummed a few lines of the song before belting out the next verse, hoping like hell Mr. Stark didn't religiously watch elevator security footage.

"Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl! You know I've seen her in her uptown world, she's getting tired of her high class toys! And all her presents from her uptown boys! She's got a-ahh!"

I jumped about a foot in the air when one of my earbuds was suddenly tugged from my ear. My eyes flew open and my hands shot up defensively before I realized I recognized the blonde hair and those very unfair blue eyes. "Holy hell, Steve! You scared the shit out of me! I mean- daylights...You scared the daylights out of me." I quickly corrected as his cheeks began to flush. I always forgot about his thing with swearing. I never had much of a filter to begin with, though, and being anywhere near tall and blue-eyes didn't help. He made me all tongue tied and mush brained. All 6'2" of him.

"Sorry, Lily. I thought maybe you would've noticed the elevator stop." He said with an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Although, maybe I should've just let you keep singing."

My face went about ten shades of red as I glared at him, punching him in the arm and immediately regretting it. It was like punching a cement wall. "Well excuse me, I was just trying to drown out that." I explained, gesturing to the rain that was still coming down in buckets outside.

Steve frowned as the elevator doors finally slid closed again and it resumed its journey to the lobby. "Yeah, that's one heck of a storm." He was peering out the window, giving me ample opportunity to admire the leather bomber jacket he had on.

I hurriedly looked away and fiddled with my phone as he turned back to me, turning the music off and shoving it into my back pocket. There was another clap of thunder and I flinched.

Steve raised an eyebrow, looking both amused and sympathetic. "Not a fan of thunder?"

I wrinkled my nose and nodded. "You could say that...what are you doing here anyways?"

"Tony needed to see me." He shrugged. "Although, like always, I only understood about half of what he said." The corner's of Steve's mouth quirked up into a cute little smile, making me want to melt into a puddle.

While it was no joke that there was plenty of eye candy lurking around Stark Tower, I'd always felt an extra draw to Steve Rogers. While I was normally a talkative, outgoing person, he made me feel nervous and queasy, and at a loss for the right thing to say. Queasy in the sense that looking at him made my stomach dip in a way that, when I was really honest about it, wasn't entirely unpleasant.

We'd bumped into each other a few times when I'd first started working for Mr. Stark, as I trailed the philanthropist around and tinkered on his latest inventions. Steve was always nice to me. Eventually he became familiar to me, and it wasn't uncommon for him to show up at my desk just to say hello. I liked that part, the familiarness. What I didn't like was how everyone teased me about it. While I'd noticed immediately that Steve wasn't great at reading signs, everyone else I worked with noticed right away that I had a school girl crush on him. On Captain America who was light years out of my league.

"Thus is the way of Tony Stark." I mused out loud, smiling back at Steve.

He nodded in agreement before his eyes traveled to the earbuds still draped around my neck. "What were you listening to anyways?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Billy Joel. My guilty pleasure. Uptown Girl is a classic."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed together in the most adorable way. "Billy Joel? I don't think I know him."

Before I could launch into an explanation of one of the world's greatest musical talents, he was pulling a tiny notebook from his back pocket and jotting down in it. "What did you say the song was? Uptown Girl?"

I had no idea why, but the pure innocence of the question and the fact that he was writing it down, made my chest swell a little. Why, god why, did he have to be so utterly adorable?

"Mhm." I nodded quickly.

Suddenly, without warning, the elevator jerked to a halt and sent me stumbling into Steve. The lights flickered once, twice, three times before staying off. I didn't move as we stood in a stunned silence, although I wasn't quite stunned enough to miss the feeling of Steve's hands on my waist. In any other situation, that would've been ideal. It slowly dawned on me, though, as the lights stayed off and we stayed immobile, that the elevator had stopped. We were stuck.

"Oh god, oh hell." I whimpered. I lurched away from Steve towards the panel and franticly began pressing the level one button. Nothing. Panic began to rise and churn inside me and I almost forgot that Steve was even there as I desperately looked around for some type of emergency button or phone or something and why the hell was I stuck in an elevator!? "Shit shit shit-" Realizing I was acting sort of like a lunatic, but not really caring, I started banging on the doors and calling for help. Then, I remembered, I had a super human with me. "Hey, pry these open with your super strength and get us the hell out of here!"

There was another loud clap of thunder and I let out yet another yelp, falling back against the wall.

"Hey, calm down. It's gonna be fine." Steve's voice was soft as his huge hands encircled my wrists and pushed my hands down to my sides. His thumbs rubbed comforting circles against the inside of my forearms. "We're just stuck. Lily, look at me."

My breath had started to become shaky. Well duh, we were stuck! That was the problem! We were stuck in a tiny little box in the middle of a huge freak thunderstorm! Steve said my name again and I hesitated before reluctantly tilting my head to look up at him. His eyes, still the most startling shade of blue I'd ever seen, looked at me with concern. "What, Rogers?" I snapped.

He laughed. "Take a deep breath, alright? The power just went out. I'm sure JARVIS or Tony or somebody'll have it back on soon."

His tone was calm, reassuring.

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you using your hero voice on me?"

He gave me an apologetic grin. "Not intentionally. I'm just trying to keep you from having a meltdown."

If I hadn't been so freaked out, I would've scowled at him. As it was, though, I was very freaked out. Not to mention his hands were now running up and down my arms, probably in an attempt to comfort me, but all it was doing was filling my stomach with extra butterflies. Just the feeling of his hands on me in general was incredibly distracting. Not quite enough to make me forget about our current predicament.

"So you can't pull some super act of heroism and get us out of here?" I whined slightly.

He stepped back, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed the elevator. I fought the urge to pull him close again. "Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the power being off...all we can do is wait. I'll call Tony and let him know, though, alright?"

I nodded, wrapping my arms around my stomach. Outside the elevator's glass walls, rain splattered and lightning flashed. I sat down on the floor, stretching my legs out in front of me. If there was one positive, it was that the walls were technically windows. Otherwise, we would've been sitting in the dark. Although, there was a second positive, I thought as I looked up at the tall, slender man in front of me.

It was no joke that Steve was gorgeous. First of all, he had the shoulders of a line backer and his arms- well, there wasn't a metaphor out there that could do those works of art justice. Then, of course, there was his jaw and his cheekbones and his eyes and those little dimples in his cheeks whenever he smiled...

He turned and gave me a look before rolling his eyes, phone held to his ear. "Sure thing, Tony." There was a pause and Steve was suddenly stifling a cough, ears turning bright red and I wondered what the hell Mr. Stark could've possibly said to him. "Would you stop? Just get the damn power back on."

I raised my eyebrows. as he hung up the phone. My pulse had settled back to somewhat normal again. "Language, Captain." I teased.

He smiled, looking bashful. The tips of his ears were still red. "Sorry, about that. You know how Tony can be, though...how he can be-"

"Sort of a smartass?" I hinted.

Steve nodded. "That." He sat down next to me, the sleeve of his jacket brushing against me. "Said he's working on getting us out of here, though. Shouldn't be long."

"Can I ask what he said that's got you all flustered?" I asked.

Steve let out a sigh. "He told me-" His cheeks tinged pink again in the most adorable way. "He told me not to pass up the opportunity to get frisky with his techie, despite the fact that we are virtually surrounded by windows."

A laugh jumped out of me and I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle it as Steve gave me shy smile, although I could spot the amusement in his eyes. His old-fashioned nature still caught me off guard sometimes. It made perfect sense, but it was far too easy to make him blush. Although, it was nice to know that chivalry and manners weren't dead after all. At least not when it come to this particular Avenger.

I opened my mouth the tease him a little when there was another lightning strike and boom of thunder. The rain seemed to pelt even harder against the elevator walls. I winced a little and was surprised when Steve's arm suddenly came around my shoulders, pulling me just slightly into him. He was warm and solid, and smelled amazing...like fabric softener and something a little sharper, like pine. For some reason, it was oddly comforting and I fought the urge to snuggle closer to him.

"This isn't too frisky for you, Cap?" I joked.

He let out a laugh, his chest rumbling underneath me. "No, I think this is pretty tame, don't you?"

I glanced up at him and his teasing grin made my pulse jump. "Perfectly tame." I agreed, nodding. "Sorry I'm the world's biggest baby right now...the storm was bad enough but I thought people only got stuck in elevators in movies."

Steve shrugged. "Everybody's got something that scares them. No need to apologize."

His thumb was once again drawing circles against my outer shoulder, and despite my jacket, I swore I could feel the heat of his skin. "Even you, super hero?" I asked, leaning back to look up at him.

His lips stretched into a smile. "I may be part super human, but I'm still mostly human."

"So tell me? What's your fear?" I asked curiously. I nudged his side playfully with my elbow. "I promise not to tell."

He let out a low, thoughtful hum and I wondered what on earth somebody like him had to be afraid of. I knew Steve wasn't invincible, but he sure was a hell of a lot closer than most people. "You want me to be honest?" He asked suddenly.

I nodded.

"I guess loneliness." He admitted, and the confession caught me off-guard.

"Really?"

"Yeah." He said, leaning his head back against the glass wall. "There's nothing that makes you feel incredibly alone like waking up only to realize everyone and everything you know is gone. Feeling that way was...Don't ever want to feel that down again."

"Steve." I said gently, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. There was no way I could ever understand exactly what he meant, but I had the slightest, tiniest of inklings about it. I'd felt a certain kind of loneliness when I'd moved to the city and knew absolutely no one. The difference was, I could go home at any time and see all the familiar faces and surroundings I'd left. Steve couldn't. I hadn't realized before he said it how heartbreaking that was. How lonely.

"Don't get me wrong." He went on. "I have friends now, people like Tony and Clint, who I know care about me...although with Tony sometimes it's not as surface level." He joked and I let out a small laugh. "But most people tend to just see me as Captain America. And while that's part of who I am, it's not really me. I'm still just Steve, a kid from Brooklyn, you know?"

I nodded as his fingers intertwined with mine. "I know. And while Captain America is fantastic...I prefer Steve." I admitted with a shrug.

He smiled. "Why do you think I go out of my way to come visit you all the time? You're one of the only people around here who treats me like a normal person."

I felt like my heart had catapulted and lodged itself in my throat at his admittance. Somehow, though, I managed a nod.

When I glanced up at him, he suddenly looked nervous, staring down at are intertwined hands in his lap. "In fact, there's been something I've been meaning to ask for a while now, but haven't really had the nerve."

I felt my eyebrows shoot up. Captain America...Steve Rogers nervous? About asking me, of all people, something? My stomach was doing flip flops as his blue eyes met mine. "Yeah?"

He pulled his lower lip in between his lips in a nervous act that I knew for a fact he had no idea how sexy it made him look. After a moment, he took in a breath and let it out. "Well, what the hell." He said suddenly and I was almost too astonished once again by America's golden boy using even just the slightest of curse words that I had no time to fully realize Steve was leaning in until I felt his lips on mine.

The tiniest of gasps escaped me. Then, I was lost in him. His kiss was soft, gentle, as if he was afraid I'd pull away. Well, fat chance of that. I cupped his face in my hands, bringing him closer to me and his arm that was around my shoulder slid to my waist. Feeling brave, I ran my tongue across his bottom lip and his mouth parted beneath mine. His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me even closer until there wasn't an inch of space to spare between us. Outside, the storm was still going strong but for the first time since the rain had started, it was the absolute last thing on my mind. I was too preoccupied with the perfect specimen of man pressed up against me, so close that it made me almost dizzy. Somewhere, a voice in my head, was in disbelief and in shock that this was even happening. That Steve Rogers was kissing me.

Neither of us had even realized the elevator was moving until a familiar voice came on over the intercom system.

"Way to seize the day, Cap! Thatta boy!"

Steve let out an exasperated groan against my lips before pulling away. "Go away, Stark."

I could feel my face growing hot as I buried it into Steve's shoulder, knowing I was going to be getting teased monumentally the next day from my boss. The lights had come back on and Steve gave me a shy, apologetic grin before standing and pulling me to my feet with him.

"So," I began, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "That thing you wanted to ask me?"

He was still holding my hand and squeezed it gently. "Dinner? I know it's a little backwards..first kiss then a first date but-"

I interrupted him by swiftly pressing my lips to his. "Yes." I said after finally pulling away, beaming up at him. The pink tinge in his cheeks was going to be the death of me. "Besides, we have work to do. I mean, you've never heard Uptown Girl by Billy Joel before." I bantered. As the doors slid open and we stepped out, I glanced up at him. "You know, it's still pouring rain and I'm not quite ready to ride my bicycle home in the downpour...how about that date right now?" I asked hesitantly, my stomach still fluttering and experiencing after effects from the elevator kiss we'd shared.

Steve smiled, his blue eyes lighting up. "I'd like that, doll."

In the end, we'd ended up racing out of Stark Tower in the storm anyways. And despite our hurry to get into the warm safety of the cafe across the street, I didn't argue when Steve pulled me to a stop and kissed me right there in the rain.


	4. Retaliation- Clint Barton

**Character** : Clint Barton/Hawkeye

 **Prompt** : "Why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?"

 **Warnings** : None...just some silliness, some fluff, and some serious flirting. And let's be real, this is full of some super cheesy goodness and I just don't care!

 **Author's** **Note** : Can't tell you how glad I am someone requested a Clint one-shot! I'm sort of in love with him think he's super underrated. He deserves way more love! I mean, have you seen those arms? And yes I know Agent Coulson "died" but just as he is alive and well in the world of Agents of SHEILD, he's also alive and well here! I loved every second of working on this! Thank you for the fun request! :D Keep 'em coming!

For a Monday, I was in a delightfully good mood. For one thing, I'd just finished training with Natasha in the gym and managed to almost take her down. Of course, I wasn't sure I ever would considering just exactly who she was, but in my mind, I'd come pretty close. Not bad for a new agent in training...or as Tony liked to call me 'Agent Training Wheels'. Of course, what he'd failed to realize was that I'd been meticulously planning my response to this little nickname of his for weeks now...And I also considered this to be revenge for the time he switched the sugar with salt one morning when I went to grab my coffee from the kitchen. I'd smiled and laughed it off, but in my head I was already cycling through a list of possible counter-attacks against the troublesome billionaire who seemed to think himself untouchable.

I combed my fingers through my wet hair, the warm water of the shower having helped relaxed my sore muscles just enough to get me through the rest of the day. I padded down the hallway in bare feet, heading towards the shared kitchen in Stark Tower's living quarters. The sleek, chrome room was empty aside from Clint who was standing at the island counter, sipping from a mug and flipping through the pages of a glossy magazine with mild interest. My stomach jolted a little, the same way it always did whenever I saw the archer. He glanced up when he heard me come in.

"Someone's looking awfully cheerful today." He commented, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged my shoulders, beaming at him before slipping behind him where the coffee maker was. "Sure am!" I answered, standing on my tip toes as I reached up into the cupboard for an empty mug. I let out a tiny huff of exertion as my fingers brushed the handle of a cup that was just out of reach.

I heard Clint chuckle before I suddenly felt him behind me, his chest pressing up against me as he reached over me and easily grabbed the ceramic mug I'd been reaching for. I felt my cheeks growing warm, trying to ignore the sudden erratic fluttering of my heart at having him so close.

"You're welcome." He said smugly, and I knew he was smirking without even having to turn and look.

I waited a moment for the blush to fade from my cheeks and for Clint to move safely away before pouring my coffee and turning to face him. "I could've managed." I shot back. He grinned at me and my heart was once again off to the races. Oh, I was in trouble.

"I doubt that, Training Wheels."

My jaw fell open just slightly and he laughed at my disgruntled expression. "What? Now Tony's got you calling me that too?"

He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "I thought it was a little clever." He admitted.

I stared at him in disbelief, a tiny smile tugging one corner of my mouth. Before I had a chance to retaliate, I heard someone hollering my name from another room. I knew exactly who it was. I hurriedly set my mug down, coffee sloshing over the rim and creating a murky brown puddle on the counter. I pressed myself behind Clint, shielding myself from view.

"Okay, why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?" Clint asked, sounding amused.

"I think you're about to find out." I answered, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

Not even a second later, Tony came striding into the room, still calling my name. I heard him come to a stop and willed myself to stay perfectly still, simultaneously hoping Clint would stay still too.

"Alright, bird boy. Where is she?" He asked, and I was a little relieved he sounded more amused than angry. Although clearly, what I'd done had annoyed him enough for him to come and seek me out.

"Who?" Clint asked, feigning perfect confusion and I stifled a laugh. He took a sip of his coffee and set the mug down on the counter.

Tony let out a 'Hm' before he was striding around the other side of the counter. I grabbed onto Clint's waist as I was spotted. "Poor choice of hiding place. Seriously, Tina?"

Clint glanced over his shoulder at me, smiling. "Save me!" I whispered loudly.

"Oh no, you're on your own here. I'm curious to know what exactly you did that's got Stark all in a tizzy." He laughed.

Tony stepped towards me and I scurried out from behind Clint so we were on opposite sides of the counter.

"Did you enjoy your surprise?" I asked, tilting my head innocently to one side.

Tony raised both eyebrows before dumping an armful of electronics onto the counter. "You know, I have to admit you're good. Somehow you were clever enough to get your hands on every cell phone and tablet I own, although I'm not entirely convinced you didn't have help." He narrowed his eyes accusingly and I shrugged. Pepper had made me promise to keep my mouth shut about her part in my little prank.

He let out a sigh before holding up the screen of his iPad and I heard Clint choke on his coffee from behind me. The background, and the background on all of Tony's electronics, had been skillfully changed to a delightful image of Phil Coulson's face photoshopped onto a bodybuilder's body. "Imagine my surprise when I go to use my tablet this morning and this is what I see. But it doesn't stop there, oh no." Tony holds up his personal phone, followed by his business phone, iPad mini, and laptop one at a time. "They've all been changed. And for the life of me, I can't change them back because it's somehow been password protected."

"Sounds like the work of a genius." I mused.

"Or of a person who is just dying to engage in a war that she can not win." Tony answered, giving me a grin. "I'll admit, Training Wheels, I'm impressed. But I'll have your little password cracked in no time and then you can look forward a timely retaliation."

I raised my mug to him in cheers. "Bring it, Stark." I said cheerfully.

"Oh, I plan on it." He grinned. Just then, one of his phones began to ring...or more specifically, began to play Marvin Gaye's 'Let's Get It On'. Tony shook his head, flashing the screen to show Agent Coulson's name. "The ringtone change, I must admit, is also a nice touch. Touche."

"Yes, Phil?" Tony asked, taking the phone call. He pointed and shook his head at me before grinning and moving out of the room to continue his conversation.

I was grinning ear to ear when I turned around to look back at Clint, who'd been mostly silent throughout my entire exchange with Tony. He was nodding his head, an appreciative smile on his face. "Nice work. I'm also impressed."

I gave him an exaggerated bow. "Thank you, although that trick's easy. I already changed all of Captain Rogers' ringtones accordingly. I didn't have to password protect his, though. Poor guy hardly knows how to make a phone call on his own, let alone mess around with the settings."

Clint suddenly gave me a suspicious look. "Really? And you didn't happen to alter anyone else's technology during your little escapade, did you?"

I gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Of course not."

It just happened to be perfect timing then that his phone began to ring...You Sexy Thing...by Hot Chocolate. I silently applauded myself on a job well done and fought to keep a straight face as our eyes met in a silent stare down. Clint's eyes narrowed just as my lips began to break into a grin. Still holding my gaze, he lifted his phone to his ear.

"Director Fury, sir?"

I felt laughter welling up inside of me as Clint smirked and motioned to me before sliding his finger across his throat and mouthing two words: 'you're dead'.

Unable to hold back my glee anymore, and also simultaneously fearing for my life, I turned and booked it out of the kitchen. It wasn't until I was safely in the corridor and Clint's voice had faded that I let go. I leaned up against the wall, doubled over in laughter. Whatever happened now, the look on Clint's face had been worth every single second.

I froze in mid-laugh as Clint appeared at the end of corridor, a mischievous smirk on his lips. "Hot Chocolate, huh?"

"A classic." I called back to him.

There was the briefest of pauses before he we both took off at a run. I was giddy with laughter as I took the next turn sharply and nearly missed pummeling right into Bruce Banner. "Sorry, doc!" I called over my shoulder to him. I'd made it to the end of the hall in seconds and fumbled with the knob on my bedroom door, just managing to push it open when I felt a pair of broad hands on my waist. A yelp of surprise escaped me as I was suddenly thrown over Clint's shoulder.

"Put me down, Barton!" I yelled, squirming in his grip.

He tightened his hold on me, and I felt myself flush a serious shade of red as his free hand patted my upper thigh, just inches from my bottom, playfully. "Not a chance!" He laughed.

I struggled for a few more minutes before I realized it was futile and let myself hang limp, at least thankful I had a spectacular view of Clint's equally spectacular ass for the time being. We passed Bruce a second time.

"Hey, Banner." Clint greeted him. "Sorry about almost running you down before."

"No problem." Bruce said, looking equal parts confused and amused as I struggled to wave to him as we passed by.

The next thing I knew, I was being flung down onto one of the plush couches in the living room. I tried and failed to steady my once again stammering pulse as Clint held both my wrists in one hand, with one of his knees perched up on the couch next to my hip. He was grinning down at me. "Unlike Tony, I already know the perfect retaliation."

I furrowed my eyebrows together, trying to ignore our current position in order to save face and keep myself from becoming a flustered mess. It took me a moment to realize what he meant. "No, absolutely not. Don't you dare tickle me, don't you-"

I let out a squeal of uncontrollable laughter as he attacked me one-handedly. I squirmed, trying to wriggle away from him or at least get my hands free. It seemed to go on forever and ever as tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, my breath coming in short gasps in-between laughs. "Stop it! Stop! I can't breathe!" I tried to stammer out, unable to take anymore.

"You had enough?" I heard him ask.

And I nodded furiously. He suddenly let go of me and I collapsed, trying to catch my breath despite the perpetual grin on my face. "Uncalled for!" I managed to breathe, smiling up at Clint who was grinning back.

"All's fair in love and war." He shrugged simply.

"You do realize now, that I'm going to have to plot my revenge against you for this?" I asked, pushing myself into a sitting position. One of Clint's hands rested on the back of the couch, his knee still propped up near my hip.

He perked an eyebrow. "Revenge on my revenge?"

I shrugged. "Something like that."

He let out a hum under his breath, his eyes, an undeniably swoon-worthy color of sea green, still glinted with amusement. Suddenly, though, I watched as they flickered towards my lips. My breath caught in my throat. He glanced back up at me, and I knew he was looking to see if I'd noticed. The questioning expression on his face gave away that he'd wanted me to notice...that he'd wanted to see my reaction. Which was to sit up a little more and scoot myself a little closer to him. I gave his own perfect lips a shy glance.

His arm left the back of the couch and I felt his fingers curl gently around the nape of my neck, his calloused hands sending a thrill through me. The sudden heightened tension between us was overwhelming, sending my stomach on a feat of spectacular tumbles. I halted, too nervous to close the gap myself and Clint noticed, leaning in. I could feel his warm breath against my lips, and let my eyes flutter shut.

"I swear, this better not be your idea of revenge." He said in a quiet husky voice, close enough to where I could feel his lips just millimeters from my own.

"Not a chance, Barton. You gonna keep teasing, or are you gonna kiss me?" I asked, although the waver in my voice gave away my nervousness.

Clint's phone went off again, although this time, I felt monumental disappointment instead of glee at hearing Hot Chocolate. Clint let out a groan as my eyes opened. He pushed himself up off the couch and answered.

"I'm on my way. Two minutes." He grunted into the phone.

I pushed my hand through my hair, trying to calm my runaway pulse. Clint hung up and turned to face me. The smirk was back on his gloriously cute face. He gestured between the two of us with his hand. "We'll pick this up when I get back."

"You got it, agent." I answered weakly.

He grinned before hopping over the back of the couch with ease and sauntering through the kitchen, and I whirled to watch him go. When he'd disappeared, I slumped back on the couch and draped an arm over my face.

"I'm in trouble." I groaned.

"You absolutely are." A voice answered.

I shot back up and looked around to see Bruce refilling his mug at the counter, a file tucked underneath one arm. He gave me a knowing look over his shoulder and my face turned fire engine red as I fell back onto the couch once more.

"Absolutely in trouble." I muttered in agreement, making no mention of how eager I was for Clint's return.


	5. Soldier- Bucky Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes

Prompt:

"You're mine."

"You need help, damn it. Just let me do the right thing and help you."

"You don't know how long I've waited for this."

"Out of everyone you could've chosen, why'd you pick me?"

There was something about him. Something about the way he watched me.

Warnings: Brace yourself, kids. The smut is coming! ;) Although it doesn't happen until the very, very end and I'm not gonna lie...I got a little carried away and it got vivid. But I love Bucky and I love this request and once again, had the best time writing it. Enjoy! Send more requests!

* * *

There was something about him. Something about the way he watched me.

I felt his eyes on me the minute I walked into the room, although I would've noticed him regardless. There was something about Bucky Barnes that made it impossible _not_ to notice him. Maybe to anyone else, his presence would've been nothing more than background noise…despite the fact that he hardly ever seemed to say a word. To me, his presence seemed to take up an entire room. This sad, broken man trapped in the body of a solider. Of a weapon. A machine. This was how I often heard him described, but I knew that wasn't true.

Ever since Bucky had been taken in by SHEILD, under the watchful eye of Captain Rogers, I saw him for what he truly was. A lost soul. I'd been drawn to him from the very beginning. Intrigued, more than what I knew was good for me. Still, I couldn't help it. There was something about him. Something about the way he watched me. I wasn't the only one who was curious. Even now, after months of careful, tentative friendship, he still watched me like he hadn't quite figured me out yet. The feeling was mutual.

"You needed to see me, Stark?" I asked, announcing my presence.

"Glad you could join us, doc!" Tony said spreading his arms out in welcome. He was standing at the head of one of the long conference tables, the rest of the Avengers spread out around him.

"And what do I owe this pleasure to? And better make it quick, Steel Man. I got piles of paperwork to file downstairs." I quipped, leaning against the table with my arms crossed.

"Iron Man." Tony corrected, giving me a pout. "Geesh, you think you would've caught on by now."

I rolled my eyes before catching the eye of Steve who gave me a little sheepish grin.

"I have, I just like pushing your buttons." I admitted, flashing Stark a grin.

"Cold." He murmured, shaking his head. He pulled out his phone, fingertips gliding easily across the screen. "We need you to clear Agent Bird Boy here for combat. Gotta big one today and unfortunately can't play without all our team members on board." He clapped Clint Barton on the shoulder, who looked nano-seconds away from punching Tony in his smug face.

I fought back a grin and moved around the table to the agent. "Mind if I take a look?" I asked Clint.

He shrugged. "Be my guest." He held out his arm for me, wincing a little as I began kneading the muscle of his bicep.

"Still tender I take it?" I asked quietly, as the rest of the team went back to talking amongst themselves, Tony pulling up diagrams and maps on the screen in front of the room that made little to no sense to me.

Clint smirked at me. "If I said yes, would you still clear me?"

I perked an eyebrow. "If I said no, would it stop you?"

"Touche, doctor. Touche."

I laughed under my breath, feeling along the joints of his shoulder. I lifted my eyes to look across the table, where Bucky was watching me. I gave him a tiny, shy smile and was surprised when corner of his mouth quirked up, smiling back. I ducked my head, cheeks growing warm. Damn that Winter Solider. Being good looking was one thing, but mysterious and good looking? A deadly combination.

"Well, what's the verdict? Can we take him out to play, Karon?" Natasha asked, swiveling her chair to face me. She gave Clint a teasing smile.

I dropped the archer's arm and stepped back. "Any serious stiffness or weakness since you strained it?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well he was lying. "Fine, he can go. Under the condition that he stretches before going out in the field and ices his shoulder immediately when he gets back. Deal?"

He shot me a thumbs up. "You got it, doc."

"What this mission anyways?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me as I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped closer to the monitor. It immediately went black and I whirled around to see Tony grinning at me apologetically, the remote in his hands.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Classified."

I scowled at him. "Fine, Stark. Just please, try not to kill yourselves out there. I'm running out of pain meds and ice packs."

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the room. On my way out the door, I couldn't stop myself from pausing and trailing my hand across Bucky's broad shoulder, getting his attention. He glanced up at me with a frown, those brilliant blue eyes burning a hole through me. "Be careful out there, solider." I murmured.

He hesitated a moment before nodding, then grabbed my hand and squeezing it once. His touch sent a thrill through me, and I left the room before anyone could notice.

* * *

For once, I hadn't been exaggerating when I'd told Tony I had mountains of paper work to do. While working for SHEILD and the Avengers certainly was exciting and kept me busy, it also resulted in a lot of filing considering how often they were getting hurt out there. They always bounced back like it was nothing, though. Which then made me feel like a wuss every time I stubbed my toe and rolled around on the floor like it was the end of the world.

I let out a groan, pushing my dark hair back behind my ear before rubbing tiredly at my eyes. I glanced down at my watch and made a face when I realized I'd been at it for hours. All I wanted to do now was scarf down some dinner and disappear into my room, with my canvasses and paints. The team hadn't returned yet, though. I chewed on my lower lip, feeling worried…the same way I did every time they all went on a mission and didn't come back until hours, sometimes days later. At this rate, I was going to add at least an extra decade onto my life due to all the worrying I was doing. This is what happens, though, when you get too attached to a group of super humans bent on saving the world. Particularly one blue eyed, metal armed hero with a complex.

I began doodling absentmindedly on a corner of one of my files, daydreaming about the leftovers in my fridge. I nearly had a heart attack right then and there when the door to the clinic flew open and Steve stumbled in, Bucky's arm draped over his shoulder.

A lump formed in my throat as I nearly fell out of my seat in my hurry to get to them. "What the hell happened!?" I demanded, circling them both as I looked for the source of the injury and half fearing what I would find.

"I'm fine, Karon." Bucky mumbled, grimacing a little as Steve helped him sit down on the edge of one of the hospital beds. He was pale and dirty, hair falling over his eyes and hiding them partially from view. Steve didn't look much better, though, areas of his suit singed and torn.

"Christ, are you alright? Is anyone else-" I asked, immediately spotting the growing red stain bleeding through the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

"We're all okay, Kar…Bucky got the worst of it. Probably gonna need stitched up. I gotta go meet with Fury, but take care of him. Alright?" Steve said and I nodded, chewing the inside of my cheek as I hurried to the cabinet behind me and began pulling supplies out and placing them onto a metal tray. The minute the door had swung shut, Bucky spoke up.

"I don't need help, I'm fine." He insisted gruffly.

I ignored him, mind going about a thousand miles a minute as I whirled around and wheeled a table over so I could begin working. "You're gonna need to take off your shirt. What is it? Stab wound? Gun shot?" I asked, reaching for the hem of his shirt when Bucky's hands suddenly wrapped around my wrists and pushed my hands away.

"Stop, Karon! I said I'm fine! I don't need your damn help!" His voice rose, shouting on the last word. His eyes blazed with an intensity I hadn't seen, but only heard of. I realized he was shaking. His touch was like fire against my skin and I wondered if he felt it as he hastily let go of me and moved to stand up. He towered over me, despite the fact that I was tall myself. Still my 5'10" had nothing on his 6'0" stature…my eyes were barely level with his chin.

I felt my stubborn streak ignite and I held out a hand. "You sit your ass down, Agent Barnes." I ordered. His eyes flashed and I wondered why he was fighting this, fighting me, so hard. When another long few seconds had gone by and he made no move, I drew myself up taller and pressed my hands against his solid chest and pushed him back down. Or tried anyways. He didn't move.

"Okay, look." I said in a low voice, crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to make myself look tough. Which was hard considering who I was competing against. "You need help, damn it. So just let me do the right thing and help you! Please, Bucky!" I drew in a deep breath and tried to settle down. "Please."

I could see the conflict in his eyes, and I wondered what sort of battle was going on inside his head. Finally, though, he let out a huff and dropped back down onto the edge of the bed. I cheered a silent victory in my head.

"Now," I began. "Shirt off."

He raised his eyebrows at me before doing what I said, and pulling his shirt up and over his head. He discarded it on the empty bed next to him and I tried and failed not to stare at his naked torso. I'd seen my fair share of muscles, in a completely professional stand point anyways. Between Clint, Steve, and Tony, rippled abdominals were not in short supply. Still, I couldn't stop myself from staring at Bucky. He was riddled in scars, some old and some new. Fresh bruises were beginning to form underneath and around his ribs. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me again. Against my better judgement, I looked up at him. The intensity had dimmed, although now it felt different. That and the curiosity was back. I cleared my throat and hurriedly began cleaning up the blood around the wound just across his right pectoral.

"Knife wound." He said quietly, and it took me a minute to realize he was answering my question from earlier. "Not the worst I've had."

"Is this one of those 'you should see the other guy' scenarios?" I joked weakly, using a q-tip to rub some antibacterial gel over the deep cut.

"He's dead." He murmured, without missing a beat.

I faltered for only a moment before continuing what I was doing. Was that why he was in this mood? "Bucky," I began quietly. "Out there, it's you or them. You do what you have to do to survive."

"You don't understand." He began, shaking his head. "It wasn't always about survival…what I used to do…what I was before-"

Before I could stop myself, I was cupping his face in my hand and forcing him to look at me. "Was before. What matters is now. That wasn't you, James. Not the real you." I whispered, my eyes searching his. I felt as if my heart could break as I looked at him. I knew, even as I was saying it, he didn't quite believe me.

"I don't know who the real me is."

I gave him a tentative smile. "You will. One of these days." I let my hands drop back down and grabbed the needle of anesthetic from the tray. "It's pretty deep so I'm just going to go ahead and stitch it up. This should help with the pain-"

Bucky grabbed my wrist again, eyeing the syringe wearily. "No needles."

I nodded and he released me. I set the anesthetic back down, feeling a stab of hatred for Hydra and what they had done to the man in front of me. More than that, though, I felt my heart aching for him.

"This isn't going to feel good." I warned, as I reached for the needle and surgical thread.

Bucky gave me a fleeting smile. "I think I'll survive."

I worked in silence, trying my best to concentrate solely on what I was doing, but it was difficult with Bucky's eyes on me. I couldn't explain why I was so aware of him. There was just something about his gaze that made me feel bare, like there was nothing I could hide from him. I'd never had anyone in my entire life pay such close attention to me before. It was equal parts nerve wrecking and exciting, as I had no idea what to make of it or of my strange friendship with Bucky in general.

When I'd finished, I carefully bandaged my work and sat back. I gave him a smile. "All done, soldier. Although, I'd take it easy for a few days. And make sure you change that bandage."

I stood up from my stool and began to turn away but Bucky grabbed my arm and I gave him a puzzled look, turning back around.

"Thank you." He finally said after a long moment of silence.

I nodded slowly. Then, before I could really think about what I was doing, I was moving closer. I positioned myself between his knees, almost eye level with him from where he was sitting. Tentatively, I reached out a hand and pushed his hair back away from his face. I waited for him to stop me, but he was sitting incredibly still. The atmosphere in the room had slowly shifted and for whatever reason, my heart was beating faster than I would've like it to.

His hands suddenly came to my waist, drawing me closer. I couldn't suppressed my surprised gasp as his fingers dug into my sides. I moved slowly, as if afraid I'd spook him if I moved too fast, and slipped my arms around his neck, my fingers sliding into his dark hair. His head tilted just slightly, his eyes flickering towards mine. The conflict there was more prominent than ever, and despite this, I leaned closer to him suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him, to wrap myself up in him.

"Karon." He murmured, his husky voice part warning and part something else that sounded a lot like wanting. "We can't. I can't."

"Why not?" I asked, although not entirely sure what he meant, just knowing that I didn't like it.

He sighed and pulled away from just as drastically as he'd pulled me close. He grabbed my arms and pressed them back to my sides. "Because of who I am."

He stood up, forcing me to take a few steps back and I struggled for words as he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. With one last look over his shoulder, he left the clinic and the door swung shut behind him. I sank down onto the now empty bed, running both my hands through my hair.

"What the hell just happened?" I muttered to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. Yet a part of me knew exactly what had happened…I'd wanted to kiss him. I'd wanted him. Hadn't a part of me always known that? Didn't that explain my hyper awareness of him? Why my eyes always sought him out first in a room full of people? Yet his reaction, his leaving, had quickly extinguished any hope of something happening. I shook my head, and simultaneously tried to shake off the feeling of his hands on my waist.

Yet it was much more difficult than it sounded.

* * *

At some point in time, I'd managed to clean up the clinic, file my papers, and head back to my room while all in a complete and total daze. All thanks to the Winter Solider, of course, who I now couldn't stop thinking about for the life of me. My distraction before was nothing compared to what it was now. I pushed my food around absentmindedly on my plate, and with my opposite hand shaded and sketched and added to the half-finished drawing in front of me. I sat back, legs tucked up underneath me on the chair, and admired my work. My admiration quickly turned into a frown, though, as I realized I had no clue what I'd even been attempting to create.

There was suddenly a knock at the door, startling me enough to make me jump. I spun around and crossed the room to the door, wondering who in the world would be needing me this late at night. I chewed my lip, hoping there wasn't some sort of emergency I somehow hadn't been made aware of. Yet, as I pulled open the door and saw who was standing behind it, I couldn't stop my eyes from widening in shock. I suddenly felt self-conscious in my pajama shorts and tank top.

"Bucky? What are you doing here?" I asked, leaning against the door frame.

He looked different out of his uniform, dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans, brown work boots, and a deep blue colored v-neck shirt. He looked good.

He ran one hand through his hair, stalling for a moment. "Old Bucky was good at this sort of thing…I'm not."

I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head. "Good at what? Not following."

He took a breath and started again. "In the clinic…I didn't mean to push you away, but you have to understand. The things that I've done, I'm not proud. And I know it technically wasn't me, but at the same time it was. It was my hand pulling the trigger, and I was there each time somebody died. My mission was to kill, Karon." The last sentence was no more than a whisper. "Old Bucky was good at talking to woman, at acting on what he felt. I think you know that I care about you, but that scares the hell out of me. Most days I feel like a monster…I'm not your best choice."

I stood frozen at the door, at a complete and total loss for words. It took me a moment to realize what he was saying and even then, it took another moment to process it. Bucky cared about me. And despite everything that he was saying, that a part of him was truly trying to talk me out of caring about him back, he was about two months too late. I stepped out into the hallway and grabbed his hand, running my thumb across his knuckles. "You're not a monster, Buck."

Then, I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck for the second time that day. Only this time time, he didn't pull away. His hands found their way to my lower back, and then he was ducking his head and meeting me halfway. His lips brushed against mine, tentatively. I savored the softness of his lips, sighing against his mouth and wondering how so much time had passed without me fully realizing that this, Bucky, was exactly what I wanted. His hands drew me closer, sneaking beneath the hem of my tank top. I shivered as the cool metal of his hand brushed against my bare skin. I gripped him tighter and pressed myself against him, and the hesitation slowly vanished until his mouth was moving against mine in a slow, purposeful kiss that made my knees feel like jelly. I threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged gently, earning a soft groan from his mouth. Somehow, it still wasn't enough.

I pulled away from him and his eyes opened. I felt myself flush when I saw the pure, undeniable want in his eyes and wondered if he saw the same thing in mine. "You wanna come inside, soldier?" I said softly, a mischievous smile flitting about my lips. My stomach tightened when he flashed me an incredibly rare grin that was so natural, I knew without a doubt that it was something the old Bucky wore often.

He bent his head and my eyes fluttered shut as his lips grazed the skin below my ear before he whispered, "Absolutely."

My cheeks burning pink, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room and shut the door behind us. The second it was closed he didn't hesitate to pull me close to him again, attacking my lips with a quiet urgency that hadn't been there before. I felt myself being slowly pushed backwards until my back hit the door. My fingers curled around the belt loops of his jeans, yanking him closer to me and earning what couldn't be described as anything other than a growl. His hands pushed their way up the hem of my shirt, fingers skimming my bra before the thin material was yanked easily over my head and dropped to the floor.

"You don't know how long I've wanted this." I heard him murmur as his lips glided along my collar bone and up the column of my throat.

He'd barely touched me yet and I was already coming undone underneath him, my head falling back into the door. Coherent thought went out the window and any response I had in mind disappeared as I felt him sliding his hand beneath the waistband of my shorts. Three of his fingers rubbed expertly up and down, making my entire body tingle with pleasure. I slid my own hands over his shoulders and down his chest, nipping at his lower lip playfully until his tongue dipped back into my mouth. His thumb was now rubbing slow, deliberate circles against my core, making my legs quiver and I wondered for how much longer I'd be able to stand.

In an attempt to even the playing field, I tore myself away from his mouth just long enough to work his shirt over his head. For a moment, I let my fingers lightly dance across the wound I'd stitched up only hours before. Then, he pressed up against me and the heat of his skin flush against mine was almost too much. My hands trailed across the taught muscles of his back, kissing my way up his neck and stopping once again at the soft flesh beneath his ear that I realized quickly was one of his hot spots.

"Careful doll, or we won't make it to the bed." He breathed, and I realized how right he was, though the idea of him taking me up against the door was far from uninviting.

In one flash of movement, he managed to hook his fingers underneath the elastic of my shorts and had tugged them down, leaving me bare but for my unmatched bra and pantie set. From the way the Bucky was eagerly drinking me in, though, I didn't think he minded. "You're gorgeous."

"Right back at you." I managed as his fingers once again skimmed the front of my panties.

He chuckled against my lips as I popped the button on his jeans and slid my hand, feeling his length beneath my hand. He let out a moan and the next thing I knew, I was being carried across the room and dropped gently onto the bed. Bucky wasted no time, crawling on top of me, tugging down my bra and pressing his mouth to my chest, down my abdomen and stopping to place soft kisses on each of my hipbones. To say I was a panting mess was an understatement. His touch spread fire everywhere he touched and I couldn't get enough.

His braced his forearms on either side of me, hovering over me and I tugged impatiently at his jeans. "Off." I managed to breath against his mouth.

Like a good solider, he complied without argument and, kicking off his boots and shimmying out of his jeans until he was in nothing aside from a bare of gray boxer briefs. His hips suddenly dipped against mine, brushing our cores deliciously together and I moaned softly, fingers digging into his sides. I eagerly pushed his briefs down before taking his length in my hand and earning a low groan as he bucked his hips. His next move was to quickly drag my panties down, and I quickly rid myself of my bra, leaving me bare beneath him.

For one moment his eyes opened and he looked down at me through lust laden eyelashes. "You're sure?" He asked, and I knew despite how close we were, he'd stop in a second if I asked.

I nodded, swallowing hard. My trembling hands pulled him closer, wrapping around his neck and tugging gently at his hair. "Please, Bucky." It came out like a whimper.

His hand trailed over my waist and down my thigh before he grabbed the back of my knee and hooked my leg around his waist. I quivered as I felt him hard against my thigh, moaning his name. This resulted in a perfect smirk appearing on his lips, his night blue eyes raking over me. Then, with teasing slowness, I felt him inching inside me. I arched my back, raking my fingers down his broad shoulders and clutching him closer to me. My eyes fluttered shut in what couldn't be described as anything other than perfect bliss.

His mouth moved to capture mine again in a deep, sinful kiss, one hand still wrapped around my thigh and the other propped up near my head. Still with that same torturous slowness, Bucky began rocking his hips against me. My body ached for more, my breath coming in an even pants as tendrils of pleasure raced through me. His forehead fell against my shoulder and I let out a barely audible groan as his teeth grazed my skin.

"Tell me what you want, Karon." I heard his deep, husky voice in my ear.

"F-faster." I somehow managed to get out as his mouth pressed heated kisses against my neck.

He moved painfully slow against me for another agonizing minute before he straightened up, hands gripping my hips tightly and pulling me closer against him. His pace quickened, doing exactly as I'd asked, and his thrusts became faster and harder. Heat began to pool low in my stomach and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. His fingers slowly traveled up my belly to my chest, making me once against arch against him. He bent over me again, capturing the soft skin of my breast in his mouth. Both of my hands moved to tangle in his hair, my hips rising to meet his movements.

His thrusts became rougher and more erratic, our bodies slick with a thin layer of sweat as we moved against each other. I could feel a familiar pressure building inside me, growing and swelling with each dip of his hips. Suddenly, I felt Bucky's fingers intertwining with mine as he lifted both hands over my head. The new position left me completely exposed and vulnerable beneath him and pushed me even closer to the edge.

"Bucky," I moaned.

He pressed himself closer to me, kissing me hard before I heard his low whisper in my ear which I knew was the end for me and my complete undoing.

"You're mine."

With that particularly declaration, I came. My entire body clenched around him, waves of pleasure crashing over me again and again. My toes curled and my body shook, which before then, I'd never thought was something that could actually happen. Bucky followed, thrusting into me a few more times as my name rolling off his tongue followed by a string of curses.

His head fell against my shoulder as we both struggled to catch our breaths and I ran my fingers through his hair, brushing my lips over the top of his head. "Holy hell, Bucky." I said weakly after a moment. The two words he uttered just moments before still echoed in my mind, sending yet another thrill through me. _You're mine_.

He propped himself up on his elbows, one side of his mouth quirked into a smile before he brushed his lips against mine. For once, his eyes held something else besides the lost, broken look I was so used to normally seeing. I thought to myself, that I could get used to seeing him smile. He rolled onto his back, taking me with him. I tucked my head beneath his chin as his hand trailed up and down the back of my spine. I could hear his heart beating beneath his chest, the rhythm still slightly erratic. I smirked, thinking that I had done that to him.

"Why me?" He suddenly said, breaking the content silence.

"Hm?" I tilted my head to look up at him.

"Out of everyone you could've chosen, why'd you pick me?" He asked, and the question in his gaze, the disbelief, tugged hard at my heartstrings.

I pulled myself up onto my elbows and lightly kissed the tip of his nose, his forehead and both cheeks before brushing against his kiss swollen lips. His eyes shut, both hands on my lower back. "Because, Bucky. I know what you think about yourself, but I also know you're a good man. And I intend on making you believe that again someday."

"I don't deserve you, doll." He muttered, and he opened his eyes to look at me.

I smiled gently as his fingers threaded through my hair and pulled me in for a long kiss.

"I disagree, solider."


	6. Overwhelmed- Clint Barton

**Character** : Clint Barton

 **Prompt** : "Get your ass over here and kiss me."

 **Warnings** : None...just some major fluff and flirting.

 **Author's Note** : More Hawkeye because I'm basically Clint Barton trash and can't resist a cute Clint request. Maybe a Steve one next? Unless anyone has a request, then throw it my way!

* * *

My eyes were glued to the television screen, a bowl of popcorn in my lap, and not a care in the world as I enjoyed a very rare day of nothingness. Most of the time, life with SHEILD seemed to be nothing but constant movement. Never time to stop and smell the roses, or even take a nap. Which was exactly was I'd been in pure bliss upon waking up that morning and remembering that I had nothing to do. Nothing at all. What a wonderful thing.

I popped a few pieces of popcorn into my mouth. "Oh, come on! That tile is hideous! It doesn't even match!" I cried out, shaking my head.

I heard footsteps behind me, only partially aware as someone hopped over the couch back and settled down next to me. At least not until the bowl of popcorn was wrenched from my grasp. "Hey, what the hell!"

I glanced down to see Clint, a cheeky grin on his face as he laid his head in my lap. The bowl of popcorn now rested on his stomach, his lanky legs propped up on the opposite armrest. "Hi to you too, gorgeous." He said.

I rolled my eyes and shifted slightly, attempting to make myself more comfortable. "Can I help you, Barton?"

"Just wondering what the hell you're yelling about over here," He answered, glancing towards the TV. He let out a snort of laughter. "You're kidding, right? The House and Plant Channel?"

"Home and Garden Network, idiot." I corrected him. He retaliated by reaching down and tickling the underside of my foot. I twitched and kicked my leg out of the way. "No tickling."

He grunted in response, eating some popcorn from the bowl.

"Bathroom is as big as my entire bedroom." I mumbled, back to ignoring him as the couple on the TV made yet another terrible decision. We watched in content silence until a commercial came on and I leaned back, absentmindedly running my fingers through Clint's hair as some obnoxious red-headed woman on the TV tried to sell me car insurance. "Did you actually need something or are you just here to bug me?" I quirked a smile at him.

He frowned and abruptly sat up, swinging my legs up from the floor so they rested in his lap. "Bugging you? When have I ever bugged you?"

I laughed, rolling my eyes and tried not to melt into a puddle as his hands began kneading the sore muscles of my calfs. "Hm, seems like you're definitely trying to butter me up for something?"

His eyes danced with amusement, a flirtatious smile tugging the corners of his mouth as he continued to rub my legs. To anyone else, I was sure our relationship probably looked like an entirely different story than what it actually was. The touching, the flirting, the cuddling…I'd just excepted all of those things as part of my friendship with Clint. Yet I hadn't missed when Steve had not so subtly pointed out that neither Wanda nor Nat received such benefits from a friendship with him. I'd been quick to argue that those were different situations, which they were. And I knew right away that Steve had made his point. Even without the smug look on his face.

Clint and I had just clicked right away. While there were things I liked, even loved, about the rest of the team, Clint's easygoing and sometimes child-like nature drew me to him. He was fun and playful, which were two things I desperately needed in a job like this one. Sometimes, all I wanted was to forget the state of the world outside of Stark Tower and spend days watching movies with Clint and playing drunken Scrabble at the kitchen table.

"Well, now that you mention it…" He began. I fought back a knowing smile. "I need to borrow your iPod while I work out."

I raised my eyebrows. "And what the hell happened to yours?"

He shrugged. "Lost it, broke it, Hulk ate it…not exactly sure. Something happened to it and now I need to borrow yours."

"You're doing a great job at convincing me that my iPod will be safe in your hands." I said sarcastically, adjusting the throw pillow behind my back and snuggling against it. "Maybe you should try asking nicely?" I suggested.

"Please, Ava?" Clint asked, a tiny mischievous smirk playing about his lips. The rare sound of my first name leaving his mouth sent a thrill through me. My stomach tightened as his fingers slowly danced their way up my bare thigh and to the hem of my shorts. "With a cherry on top?"

Before his fingers had a chance to creep up my shorts, I slapped his hand away. "Stop that!" I hissed at him, my face flushing. It wasn't the first time he had toyed with the already delicate line of friendship with me, and I knew it wouldn't be the last. It was almost like a game we played…how far would I let him go before putting on the brakes? So far, not very but my resolve wavered with each new try.

"Hot and bothered over there? If you need to work off some tension, I can skip the gym and we can-"

I smacked his arm and he let out a loud laugh. "I'm kidding! Kind of."

I let out a huff, settling back against the couch again. "It's in my room. On the nightstand."

"You're the best." He grabbed my hand, brushing his lips across my knuckles and leaving my skin tingling. He was up and off the couch in a matter of seconds, shooting me one last shit-eating grin as he rounded the corner. And he was right, I was hot and bothered. How he managed to get under my skin so easily was beyond me, but he was a pain in my ass. And it was totally unfair. I tried to turn my attention back to the show on the TV but couldn't stop thinking about Clint and his roaming hands.

* * *

It wasn't until later that day, hours later, that I managed to pry myself away from the TV and leave the couch for some much unwanted, but still necessary, exercise. A day off was never a complete day off. Somewhere in there, some kind of training had to happen. I was opting for a few laps around the indoor track. I finished pulling on my gym shorts and sports bra, sliding an old Captain America t-shirt on over top. It'd been a gag gift from Tony a few years back, but I knew Steve always got a kick out of it whenever he saw me with it on. Sneakers on and hair pulled back into a ponytail, I moved to the next objective on my to-do list which was to get my iPod back from Clint and hope to god he hadn't found a way to lose mine too.

Hours since I'd last seen him, I stopped at the door to his room which was just down the hall from mine. I knocked and waited, but after a few minutes he didn't come to the door. "Clint?" Against my better judgement, I checked to see if the door was locked before pushing it open. The room was quiet. And it was also a mess. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, draped over the back of a sofa and even one shirt hanging of the closet handle. Papers and books covered the desk in the corner and a few empty beer bottles and coffee mugs cluttered on the bed's nightstand. "Slob." I muttered to myself in amusement as I picked my way across the room to the bed. Laying on the covers, as if it'd just been tossed there, was my iPod. I snatched it up and was relieved to see it'd survived it's time with Clint unscathed.

Curiosity pricked at me though as I turned the screen on and scrolled through the recently played list. I sank down onto the edge of the bed, smiling a little. Imagine Dragons, Mumford and Sons, Coldplay…and Justin Timberlake. I knew it. I lifted my head at the sound of a door opening and widened my eyes when I realized it wasn't the bedroom door, but the door to the adjacent bathroom. The iPod clattered from my hands to the bedroom's carpeted floor.

"Didn't anybody ever teach you to knock?"

I knew I was staring, gaping at him open mouthed like a poor little fish who suddenly had found itself on land. I couldn't help it, though. There he was, bare chested with a towel hung low around his waist. For whatever god forsaken reason, my eyes zeroed in on his hipbones. Dear god, were hipbones even meant to be sexy? My ogling couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds at most, but it was definitely long enough for Clint to have noticed and for my cheeks to turn red.

"Jesus Christ, put some clothes on!" I gasped, averting my stare to the floor as he let out a laugh.

"You're the one that just barged into my bedroom!" He protested. I heard him walk across the floor to the closet on the opposite side of the room. "Not my fault you caught me at an indecent time."

"Well, it's not my fault I knocked and you didn't answer." I grumbled, kicking a balled up t-shirt with the toe of my sneaker.

"Didn't hear you, I was showering. As I'm sure you noticed." He said with obvious amusement and I fought the urge to roll my eyes even though he was right. This wasn't an argument I could win, considering I was the one who'd strolled right in like I owned the place. Still…had anyone ever looked so good in a towel? "I'm gonna put some clothes on so you might want to shield your innocent eyes."

"You're an ass." I replied. He laughed again as I fell backwards onto the bed, covering my eyes with both hands. I tried and failed not to listen as I heard the towel drop to the floor and bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep my thoughts from wandering any further than that. Finally, the bed sank down next to me from the weight of an extra body and I uncovered my eyes, turning my head to see Clint lying on his side and looking awfully smug with himself. My eyes flickered over him, realizing his idea of getting dressed was throwing on a pair of jeans. "It seems you're missing something. Also known as a shirt."

"Can't find a clean one."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "And you call yourself a super hero."

He reached out to flick my nose and I pushed his hand away. "Don't make me kick you outta here."

I lifted my iPod and waved it at him. "I was just rescuing this before you had a chance to kill it." He raised his eyebrows and I watched him open his mouth to argue before quickly closing it again. I furrowed my eyebrows together. "What?"

"Is that…a Captain America t-shirt?" He asked, looking at me with one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

I lifted my head to glance down at my chest, somehow almost having forgotten I'd thrown it on. "Yeah, looks that way." I laid my head back down and glanced back over at Clint who was frowning at me. "Why, are you jealous?"

"Well, I mean it's not like you're walking around in a Hawkeye t-shirt." He said, shrugging one shoulder.

"Maybe if I had one…"

He flashed me a smile. "I could arrange that you know."

I laughed. "I can't tell if you're being serious or not right now. Would it get you off to see me running around the gym and sweating in your memorabilia?"

"We won't know until we try, will we?" The grin on his face was playful and I fought to keep a straight expression as he suddenly reached out and tugged on the hem of my shirt. His hair was still damp and messy from his shower. It was unfair how adorable he was. "But seriously, who do you like more? Me or Cap?"

I started laughing again as he looked up at me with practiced innocence. "I can't answer that, it's like asking me to choose between two of my children." I joked.

He scoffed, elbow bent and head propped up in his hand. "You're avoiding the question…because we're not your children. Thank god, otherwise my feelings regarding you would be pretty awkward."

"Very awk-wait, what?" I glanced over at him with wide eyes to see him watching me expectantly, blue eyes glinting with amusement and a smile on his lips. His feelings regarding what now? My pulse felt like it'd been jumpstarted, suddenly beating a little too fast for my liking.

"You heard me, Holton." He said calmly. I realized his fingers were still toying with the hem of my shirt and an unexpected shiver washed over me as his calloused fingers brushed my stomach. I was still struggling to register the fact that Clint Barton was claiming to have feelings for me. Right? That's what he was saying, wasn't it? Although we'd always been just friends. Or had we? Maybe that had never been exactly true. I suddenly felt overwhelmed. Clint frowned slightly. "Okay, maybe that wasn't the best way to spring that on you."

I struggled to sit up before standing up from the bed, iPod gripped tightly in one hand. I stood in the center of the room, my other hand on my hip as I continued to try and process this new information. I glanced back at Clint to see him propped up on both elbows, watching me. "Holton? Look-"

"I'm gonna go run around in circles now." I said quickly, cutting him off before pivoting on my heel and booking it out of the bedroom door. I heard Clint scramble off the bed, but I was already power walking down the hallway. I heard him calling after me, but I didn't stop and I wasn't exactly sure what I was running from. Or power walking from.

Minutes later, my sneakers were pounding against the training room floor in a steady rhythm, music pulsating loudly through my ears as I tried to drown out my thoughts. Or if that didn't work, I was prepared to run until I was too exhausted to think. I was only on my third lap when I spotted Clint, tugging a shirt over his head as he walked into the room. My heart leapt into my throat as I rounded the next corner, my back to him. I couldn't explain why Clint's sudden confession had sent me basically tripping over myself. Maybe because I hadn't dated in almost two years. Didn't help that the last one had ended badly either. And Clint was my friend. Did I really want to risk ruining how great that was?

I turned another corner, now facing the door in which he had come in. He was leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and watching me with a mildly amused expression. Looking good enough to make me realize that yes, I did want to risk it. I slowed down when I was about half way across the room and pulled my earbuds out of my ears. We just stood there for a minute, at least a good twenty feet between us.

He pushed himself off the wall finally, shaking his head and wearing a small smile. He slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "So this is how you're gonna make me do this, huh? Shout at you from across the room?"

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other before taking another couple of steps closer, although there was still a good amount of space in-between us. He laughed. "Fine. Listen, I'm just gonna put it out there. I like you. Obviously." He shrugged. "And up until about ten minutes ago, I thought you felt the same way. So do you?"

"Do I what?" I repeated, although I knew exactly what he meant.

He rocked back on his heels. "Do you like me back, you idiot."

"Oh." I felt my cheeks flush and suddenly the entire conversation felt very middle school. Which I supposed was appropriate considering the type of relationship Clint and I had. "Well, yeah."

"Good. See? Not so tough, right? Although, hell, for a minute, I thought I scared you off for good." He bantered. Even from where I was standing, I could see the mirth in his eyes. There was something else there too, though, as his gaze lazily traveled down my body making me feel strangely exposed. I felt very warm and knew it had nothing to do with the laps I had just run. "Yeah, the Cap shirt for sure has to go now."

I crossed my arms over my chest, hiding the symbol from view. "Careful, Barton. Not too late for my too change my mind." I warned him, a slight teasing tone to my voice.

All it did was put an irresistible grin on his face. "Get your ass over here and kiss me."

He didn't have to say it twice.


	7. Alone- Steve Rogers

**Character** : Steve Rogers

 **Prompt** :

88\. "Just once."

96\. "Why are you running from this? I know you feel it too."

99\. "I can't stand the thought of losing you."

 **Warning** : Just lots of feels and angst and general sadness...Considering doing a Part 2 to this one if anyone is interested! Enjoy! :)

"I need everybody in one this one, except for Agent Grant."

I felt my mouth fall open slightly as I met the Captain's eyes from across the room. Everyone around us shifted uncomfortably. "Excuse me?" I asked carefully, leaning forward in my seat. "Why am I not going?"

"You know why." Steve went on, his fingertips pressed to the edge of the table. "You're not at 100% yet, Grant."

At the mention of my most recent battle scar, my fingers gently moved to prod the tender skin around my ribcage. If I were to lift my shirt, everyone would've seen the deep black and blue colors of the bruise that painted my entire side. The pain was better though, and I'd managed to make it around the track for a few laps without getting dizzy. Although I knew my breath was more shallow than what it should've been. It'd been weeks since I'd last been on a mission, though, and I was itching to see something besides the inside of Stark Tower. I'd been hopeful today would be my day. Clearly I'd been wrong.

What I wouldn't have given for some of Steve, or even Bucky's, accelerated healing. Telekineses was no good for mending broken ribs.

"Rogers, with all due respect I think I can handle myself." I argued, although it went against my better judgement. "This decision isn't up to you."

"Actually," He began, stepping back away from the table and clasping his hands behind his back. "It is…I'm sorry, Grant. It's a risk we can't take…you could end up right back where you were three weeks ago."

"Please," I insisted, teeth gritted. He shook his head and I felt a hand on my arm and looked up to see Sam smiling softly at me.

"Next time."

I ignored him and turned back to Steve, who at least had the audacity to look like he felt sorry for me. "May I please have a word with you alone, Captain Rogers."

He hesitated a moment before nodding. "Of course."

I raised my eyebrows and looked meaningfully around the room when no one moved to get up. Finally, Clint muttered something under his breath and was on his feet, but had to double back when Tony continued to sit at the table, looking between Cap and I a little too gleefully.

"Aw come on, Barton! I wanted to stay for the show!" I heard him protest before the door to the conference room swung shut. Then, we were alone.

The legs of my chair scraped against the tiled floor as I stood and made may way closer to Steve, crossing my arms over my chest once I was standing in front of him. My nails dug painfully into my skin as I fought for control over my temper. "Tell me what the hell this is really about, because we both know I'd be fine out there. Physically, I might be running on low battery but my mind is fully functioning."

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his short, blonde hair. "That may be true, but I can't guarantee your safety right now. What if something happens and you have to fight in hand to hand combat, huh? What if you have to make a run for it? Those ribs aren't fully healed yet, so until they are, you're not going anywhere. This isn't just about you." Steve shook his head. "It's not just your own life you'd be putting in danger, but everybody else's too. We can't afford any mistakes."

I felt my eyes narrow slightly. "Mistakes?" I repeated in a low voice. I could feel my control slipping, the carefully constructed walls in my mind that contained my powers crumbling.

Steve seemed to sense this and took a step towards me. "Hey, calm down. All I meant was that if something happens to you out there, we're gonna have to send someone in after you which puts extra lives at risk."

His words sounded faraway and fuzzy, like background noise. I dropped my hands to my sides and felt my fingers curling into tight fists. The table and chairs began to tremble against the hard floor, the door shaking in its frame. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and took in a deep breath as I tried to fight for control, but there was a sharp stab of pain in my ribs and my powers pushed through a little more. Something rattled off the conference table and crashed to the floor.

I felt the warmth of Steve's hands on my face suddenly, his long fingers sliding into my hair. I could hear him saying my name as he gently cradled my face in his capable hands. "Layla, breathe. Put that barrier back up." His voice became clearer as I pulled in a slow, careful breath, feeling the strain on my ribs. "Another one."

I did as he said and took another breath, and the room once again became silent and still. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into Steve's, a startling shade of sky blue. I lifted my shaking hands and curled my fingers around his wrists.

"You good?" He asked, his expression one of utmost concern as his gaze swept over my face.

I nodded. "Sorry."

He lowered his hands, but surprised me by lacing his fingers through my own. "I'm not trying to hold you back, or make you angry. I'm just trying to keep you safe." He insisted, in his quiet, steady voice. It was a voice that had talked me down plenty of times, especially during my early days with SHEILD, before I had any control over what I could do. He'd always been a constant figure of strength, of steadiness. One that I could cling to when I felt the world slipping out from beneath me.

"I know, but you need me out there." I whispered, glancing away from our intertwined fingers to meet his eyes once more.

He squeezed my hands. "No, I need you here. Where I know you're safe." He lifted a hand to tuck a strand of dark hair behind my ear and I suddenly knew this was about more than just the integrity of the mission. I recognized the sudden change in his expression and my heart rate accelerated. "Layla, I can't stand the thought of losing you."

"Stop, Steve." I said and abruptly pulled away from him. I turned my back to him and wrapped my arms around my middle. "Please."

His words tugged on my heartstrings, but at the same time created a pit in my stomach. I knew how Steve felt about me. I had for a while, though it was something maintained as a secret from the rest of the team. Even before he told me, I saw it in the way that he looked at me. The way he'd push my hair back away from my face. Even in the way he said goodnight to me as he passed by my room each night to get to his. I'd probably fallen in love with him even before that, yet it was something I could never act on. I'd explained that to him once already and didn't wish to do it again. It hurt too much.

"Why are you running from this?" He asked from somewhere behind me. "I know I'm not the only one who feels it."

I swallowed hard over a lump in my throat. "I've already explained to you. My powers- they're dangerous and I don't have total control yet. And then there's the team and what they would think-"

"Those are bullshit reasons and you know it."

I turned around to face him, caught off guard by both the tone of his voice and his word choice.

I hated the look of hurt, of frustration on his face. "Tell me the real reason."

I bit my lower lip, shaking my head.

"Please." His voice was barely above a whisper.

I ran my hands over my face before letting them fall back to my side. The table had started to shake again and put a hand to my forehead until it was still. Steve was still waiting for an answer. I took in a shaky breath. "Because, Steve. If I open myself up to you…if I let myself care about you even more than I already do and then something were to happen? If I were to lose you? I don't think I could live through that." I confessed, and the words sounded so much heavier and weighted than they had inside my head.

"Layla," He said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't possibly know that. You're not immortal, Steve." I argued gently. I felt wetness on my cheeks and hurriedly wiped away my warm tears with the back of my hand.

Steve strode over to me with a look of renewed determination in his intense blue eyes. His arms came around my waist, and his forehead lowered to rest against mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my lips and I knew I should've pushed myself away from him, but I suddenly wasn't strong enough. I wanted to sink into him, for once let someone else take care of me and worry about me. For once, I wanted to let myself be weak. I hesitantly lifted my hands to his chest and felt the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my fingers. He tilted his head and brought his lips closer to mine. My stomach twisted into knots and I felt my body responding against my will to him, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit, my pulse quickening and breath becoming shallow for a reason entirely different than the broken ribs.

"Steve," I warned, slightly shaking my head.

"Just once." He murmured and my eyes fell shut as his lips brushed gently over mine.

And just like that, my resolve crumbled if just for a moment. I cupped the back of his neck with one hand and drew him closer to me as his lips moved softly against my own. His fingers trailed sparks up and down my sides, moving with the utmost care across my wounded side. If this was the first and last time, though, I didn't want gentle. I crushed myself against him and kissed him harder and he responded instantly with a groan against my mouth. His tongue slipped in-between my lips and I felt his hand threading through my hair, tugging out my ponytail.

With a quickness that made my head spin, he turned us around and cupped the back of my thighs and lifted me onto the conference table. His mouth never leaving mine, he parted my knees and moved to stand in-between them. I could feel the heat radiating off him as I dragged my fingers down his lower back and grabbed onto his hips. One of his hands was on my knee, sliding along my thigh until his thumb caressed the apex of my thigh. I shuddered against him and at the same time, felt the room around us beginning to tremble. My thoughts were all over the place, though, too caught up in Steve and how he was making me feel to worry about control.

There was a quick rap of knuckled on the door though, that suddenly broke us a part.

"Just a minute." Steve called over his shoulder, his voice laced with lust and his eyes never leaving mine.

I tried to catch my breath, hands still clutching his waist and keeping him rooted right where he was. I knew, though, I'd have to let him go. And this time, it'd been ever harder than the others which was exactly why this couldn't happen again. Steve's hand moved and his palm pressed against the side of my face, and the sadness in his eyes revealed that, somehow, he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"You know I'm in love with you, right?" He murmured.

The words sent a thrill through me unlike any other, and I ached knowing I'd never let myself have him. "I know." I said quietly, pressing my hand over his. The words were on the tip of my tongue and I wanted so desperately to tell him, to just say it. But that would change everything and make it so much more difficult than it already was.

He nodded once and with a sigh, lowered his hand and stepped away from me. He straightened his uniform and flattened his hair before giving me one last lingering look that spoke volumes of the kind of man he'd be for me, of the way the he'd love me if I'd just let him. Then, the door was shutting behind him as he left the room and I was alone.

I was alone.


	8. Stress- Clint Barton

**Character** : Clint Barton

 **Prompt** :

61\. "This is why we can't have nice things."

96\. "I can't stand the thought of losing you."

 **Warnings** : None, just some cute Clint Barton and lots of fluff! Thank you for the Clint request...next to Captain, he's my fav so I love being able to show him some lovin! xD Keep 'em coming! Steve, Bucky, Clint, Tony...whoever! If you want smut, make sure you ask. I won't write it unless someone specifically wants it, because how else will I know? lol

I stood on my tiptoes, trying to open and close the cupboards in the kitchen as quietly as possible. While I was wide awake, I know no one would be happy if they woke up to the sounds of me slamming doors and sorting through pots and pans at three in the morning.

"Flour, flour, where's the flour." I mumbled under my breath.

I reached up to tug on a promising looking white paper bag when there was a sudden shooting pain down my leg. I let out a hiss of pain and clapped a hand over my thigh. Damn pulled muscle. I knew I should've listened to Nat when she told me to ice it, but with everything else on my mind, I'd never gotten around to it. I'd probably be regretting it even more by tomorrow. I massaged the muscles in my leg gently until the pain seemed to dwindle. Then I was back on my tippy toes, reaching for what I hoped was flour.

"Almost." I grunted as my fingertips brushed it. I stretched and grabbed the bag, tugging it towards me. Everything seemed to happen all at once then. I lost my balance and started to stumble backwards, the bag got caught on the lip of the cupboard, and then there was suddenly flour everywhere. I stood in shock for a moment, looking at the white powder that covered the counter top, the floor, and coated my arms and black t-shirt. I wrinkled my nose and let out a sneeze. Oops.

"This is exactly why we can't have nice things."

I whirled around at the sound of another voice, a tiny squeak of surprise escaping me. Clint was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, shoulder leaning up against the doorframe and arms crossed over his broad chest. One side of his mouth with quirked upwards into an amused smirk.

Familiar knots began to tie and untie themselves in my stomach, the same way they did every time I saw him. It was unfair, how perfect he was. How handsome, funny, charming- I paused and swallowed hard, remembering the look on his face only a few hours before after we'd returned from a mission. A lump formed in my throat as I hurriedly turned my back on him and began trying to clean up the mess I'd made.

"Sorry to wake you. I thought I was being quiet. And I know it's late but I was just-" I began, but was cut off when he was suddenly behind me. I felt his arms wrap around my waist as he pulled my back to his chest. My heartbeat sped up as his warm breath tickled the back of my neck.

"Stress baking. I know." He finished for me, a hint of amusement in his deep voice. I felt his chin on my shoulder, his fingers spread out across my belly. I placed my hands over his and leaned my head back against his shoulder. "I'm sorry. About earlier. I didn't mean to yell at you."

For a moment, I allowed myself to revel in the warm of his arms. One of the only places I felt safe anymore. "It's okay, Clint. I get why you did."

He gently let go of me and turned me around in his arms so I was facing him. His hands gripped my waist as I let mine fall against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath his shirt. "Do you?" He asked, his eyebrow furrowing together.

I nodded slowly. "I put myself in danger. I refused to follow a direct order and almost got myself killed." I refused to meet his eyes, instead staring at the front of his shirt. If I looked up at him, I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish. He had a way of making me forget how to speak sometimes, his eyes carrying the weight of about a thousand different emotions. Most of the time light and playful. Earlier, though, they'd been furious and disappointed. I was scared that's what I would see there again. "Sam needed cover, though. If I hadn't gotten to him-"

"I know." Clint said with a sigh. "I know you saved his life, but do you realize how close you came to losing yours in the process?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. "I do…but if it meant saving the life of a friend then I would've been okay with that."

"But what about me, huh?" He said in a quiet voice.

I pulled my lower lip in-between my teeth, the knots in my stomach slowly evolving into butterflies. I thought I knew what he was saying, but I didn't want to assume anything until I heard the words. I didn't want to get my hopes up without reason. Clint and I had been dancing around each other for months. I knew how I felt about him. I was in love with him. And I was so sure he felt the same way. The signs were all there. Yet neither of us seemed to want to make the first move. To bridge that terrifying gap.

When I didn't say anything, I felt Clint's calloused fingers beneath my chin as he gently lifted my face to look at him. There was no disappointment in his blue eyes. Just something else entirely that made it hard to think straight. "I can't stand the thought of losing you, Janita." He began. "When I saw you run out there, right into the line of fire, I couldn't breathe. All I could think about is what would happen to me if suddenly you weren't around…to stress bake and watch bad TV with me at all hours of the night." He added this last bit and I felt a tiny laugh escape me. His smile made my heart leap in my chest. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm crazy about you. I know I didn't do a very good job of showing you that earlier, but I'm an idiot sometimes."

"But you're my idiot." I teased him gently and his smile grew. "I love you, Clint Barton."

His eyes widened for a moment before he pulled me into him and pressed his lips against mine. I felt a shock go through me, zinging me from head to toe. I wanted to melt into a puddle from the soft way his mouth moved against mine, from the solid feel of him beneath my fingers. He pulled away for a moment. "Say it again." He murmured against my lips.

I laughed quietly. "I said I love you, you goof."

I felt him smiling, brushing his nose against mine in an eskimo kiss. "I love you too. In case you weren't sure."

I let out a laugh but the rest of my words scatted when he pressed his mouth against mine again, rougher this time. He backed me up into the counter, his capable hands gliding down my sides until he was gripping my hips tightly. I pushed my fingers underneath the hem of his t-shirt and a low groan escaped him as I explored his warm skin. I let out a tiny gasp as his mouth began licking and kissing its way down my neck.

I heard a low hum vibrate from his chest as he pulled away and my eyes fluttered open. "What?" I asked.

He smirked at me, tongue running over his lip. "Not flour. Powdered sugar."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Powdered sugar?"

Without warning, Clint swept me up into his arms and began carrying me away from the kitchen.

"But I have to clean that up!" I began, but my protest quieted as I felt him nibbling on my neck.

"Later. Right now, you're covered in powdered sugar and I don't intend on letting that go to waste." He said huskily into my ear. A shudder ran through my entire body as he kicked the door to his room shut and deposited me onto the bed. I grinned as his form covered me, nipping and biting at my exposed skin and silently singing praises to myself for being the clumsiest person on planet earth.


	9. I Know You- Bucky Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes  
Prompt: "Pretty please could write a Bucky one shot with prompts 45, 52 and 53, I'll love you forever"  
45\. Ranting about annoying things they both disagree on which leads to kissing and so on  
52\. "Everyone keeps telling me you're the bad guy."  
53\. "I'm not a child so don't treat me like one."

Warning: This came close to turning into smut but wasn't sure if that's what the requester wanted or not so no warnings. However, I'll be working on a smutty Bucky for tomorrow so stay tuned! xD

I let out a sigh, leaning back against the kitchen counter. A half-finished bowl of cereal sat in front of me, but I was suddenly too annoyed to even consider eating the rest of it. "How many times are we gonna have this same conversation, Stark?" I asked. "You act like he's a viscous dog we have to keep locked up at all times."

"Uh hello? Ex-hydra murderer? What about that does not scream vicious to you?" Tony argued, spreading his arms out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And I can guarantee his bite is just as vicious as his bark."

"One mission, that's it. He's been as close to his old self as I've seen yet. At some point in time, Tony, we gotta give him a chance." Steve fumed, and I placed a hand on his arm to try and calm him down. Both hands were curled into tight fists at his side. If looks could kill, I would've bet money both of the men in front of me would've been dead on the ground.

Bucky was the elephant in the room almost always. He'd been living with the rest of us at Stark Tower for almost an entire year, yet everyone still walked on eggshells around him, still treated him as if any second he'd relapse into winter solider mode. Steve and I both knew better. Even Clint seemed to have stepped in behind us on this one. Bucky wasn't the threat anymore. All he wanted was to be trusted. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like for him, knowing the things that he'd done and feeling as if he'd be paying for them the rest of his life. If Tony had his way, he would be.

"No, I'm not behind you guys on this one. The assassin and his robotic arm do not leave this tower." Tony said stubbornly.

I shook my head. "You can't keep him locked up here forever, Stark. It's not right."

"Not right? How is it not-"

I never got to hear the rest of what Tony was about to say, as the words suddenly died on his tongue. He swallowed hard and I had a sudden feeling as to what had caused his reaction. My stomach dropped as I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Bucky stepping into the kitchen. The look on his face, both livid and hurt, confirmed he'd heard every single word we'd said. I shot Tony a glare. For once, he was silent.

"Bucky, we were-" Steve tried, stepping towards him but Bucky held up a hand and stopped him in his tracks.

"You want me gone so bad, why not just throw me out?" Bucky asked, eyes glinting with cool fury.

The tension in the room was so thick, it was almost suffocating. The air seemed to buzz with the energy of a fight waiting to happen. Steve and I shared a careful look, both of us ready for the worst.

Tony was looking at him with a cold, stony expression. "Because I don't trust you. Not here, and not out there."

Quietly, I crossed the kitchen to Bucky and placed both hands on his broad shoulders. He was shaking with rage. "Buck, look at me." I murmured. "It's not worth it."

Time seemed frozen for a long moment as I braced myself for a fight, though I knew Bucky was strong enough to toss me like a rag doll if he chose. He wouldn't though. Bucky was different with me. Even Steve had said so. Calm, even almost gentle at times. Some sort of trust had been built between us during the early days, when I'd heard him screaming in the middle of the night from the nightmares that constantly plagued him. During those days, I had been afraid. But it hadn't stopped me from crossing the hall and sitting next to him until he'd calmed down. He was human, super solider or not. That was what I cared about.

Bucky's eyes flickered to mine and then he was gone, turning on his heel and moving down the hall with strong, purposeful strides.

"Bucky, wait!" I called after him and hurried to keep up, leaving Steve to deal with Tony.

When Bucky disappeared into his room, I expected him to slam the door in my face and leave me worried and pacing in the hall. Instead, he surprised me by keeping it open and letting me in. I closed the door behind us and leaned against it. Giving him some space.

"Calm down, Barnes. Everything's gonna be fine. Just take a deep breath and-"

He gave me an incredulous look. "Would you stop that?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Stop what? I'm trying to he-"

"Stop treating me like a child because I'm not one. A couple of deep breaths and a few minutes in time-out ain't gonna help, Mara."

I frowned. "Is that really what you think? That I treat you like a child?"

"You, and everybody else. Explain to me how no one wants me here, but no one wants me to go either because they think…" He paused and shook his head before his eyes slammed shut. He dropped down onto the bed. "They think I'm still that monster." He groaned.

The silence in the room was deafening. There was a lump in my throat as I looked at him, slumped over. I'd never seen anyone so broken before. I glanced at the door behind me and thought about leaving. I knew in my gut, though, that he hadn't meant it. Not all of it anyways. Not that part about me…at least, god, I hoped he hadn't. The last thing I wanted was to make him feel the way everyone else made him feel.

I knelt down in front of him and pulled his hands from his face. "Hey," I whispered, when his startling blue eyes met mine. "I want you here. Alright? I need you here, Bucky."

The sadness in his eyes was overwhelming. "Why?" He asked in disbelief.

"Because…everyone keeps telling me you're the bad guy." I began in a soft voice, holding tightly to both his hands and running one of my thumbs over the scarred skin of his knuckles, and the other over the cool smoothness of the metal hand. "But I know you're not."

He looked like he wanted to believe me so badly. "How can you be sure?"

A small smile played about my lips. "Because…I know you."

He frowned, but I went on before he had a chance to disagree. "I know how much you miss the way music used to be, and how you love those black and white movies more than the colored ones, and how you hate city traffic because it's too fast, everything is too fast. I know that you're lost. I get that. But I don't think you're the bad guy, James Barnes." I said earnestly and after a moment, I watched some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Plus, who else is gonna complain about how horrible rap music is with me?"

I wasn't sure what to expect, what his response would be. I hadn't meant to unleash all that onto him, but it felt good. Was it such a bad thing to let him know Steve wasn't the only one who cared about him? That maybe I did too? More than I even really knew. My pulse leapt at the sight of a tiny smile. "Can it even be considered actual music?"

And like that, the rest of the tension dissipated. Relief washed through me. "No absolutely not. It's too loud and there's too much yelling sometimes, and the words are all jumbled together and-"

And…and…my mind was wiped blank as Bucky kissed me, catching me off guard so completely that I almost toppled over. He swept me up in his arms, though, pulling me easily into his lap. I molded myself against him, eagerly kissing back without pausing to think about what I was doing. One leg rested on either side of his waist as our mouths moved franticly together, releasing months of pent up frustration I hadn't even realized had been building between us. A low groan escaped him as his hands gripped my waist tightly, grinding his hips into mine.

Then it was my turn to gasp as he flipped us over, easily maneuvering me onto the bed until I was covered by his muscular frame. I could feel every inch of him even through his clothing. As his lips glided down my neck, I dug my nails into his shoulders and let the heat rising in me spread to every inch of my body.

"Is this okay?" I heard him murmur in my ear.

I nodded furiously, not trusting myself to speak just yet. He nipped at my earlobe and I let out a moan. I licked my lips. "The next time you get pissed off at Tony Stark, let's just skip all the arguing and do this."

He laughed, and I swore it was the most wonderful sound I'd ever heard. "Fine by me, doll."


	10. Her Lobster- Clint Barton (Part 1)

Character: Clint Barton

Prompt: An imagine that somehow incorporates that line from friends, where they talk about how lobsters mate for life? "She's his lobster". Full of too cute possibilities.

Warnings: None none none. Enjoy!

Rain pattered softly against the window pane and thunder rumbled in the distance. The TV in the living room was playing an old re-run of Friends as I dunked a plate into the warm, soapy dishwater that filled the sink. It was the kind of Saturday night I'd grown accustom to since I exchanged life in the busy city for the quiet comfort of the country. It was a life the younger version of myself, the twenty-one year old who'd never made it home any earlier than 3am on a good night, would've hated. This version of myself, though, was more than content to spend weekends curled up on the couch with a good show and a glass of wine.

"See! He's her lobster!" Phoebe's voice exclaimed excitedly and I cracked a smile, although I was pretty sure I'd seen the episode at least a dozen times before. Or maybe I was smiling because it always brought to mind a certain tall, blue-eyed someone. The only difference was that Rachel had eventually gotten her lobster. Me, not so much.

There was a sudden knock on the front door and the dish I was washing slipped from my hands and plummeted into the sink. Water splashed onto the front of my shirt and face. I let out a sigh, turning my face to wipe it on the rolled up sleeve of my shirt. Before I had a chance to even step away from the kitchen, the insistent knocking came again.

"Hold on a sec!" I hollered, glancing at the digital clock on the microwave. A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth. 11:17. Pretty late for an unexpected visit, and even then I couldn't think of a single person who'd show up without at least texting me first. Had I forgotten to pay my rent? Still frowning, I padded down the hallway and turned the deadbolt before pulling the door open.

I was greeted by an easy smile. "Hey stranger."

My mouth fell open. "Clint?"

He rocked back onto his heels, his smile growing. He was wet from the rain, water droplets glistening off his dark leather jacket and the tips of his hair. "You gonna just stand there or you gonna give me a hug, Anna?"

It was the only invitation I needed to launch myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his middle. And secretly I was incredibly relieved that he was real and not some sort of wine induced hallucination…even though I'd only gotten through one glass so far. "What the hell are you going here, you moron!?" My voice was muffled into the front of his shirt, but I heard a laugh rumble through him as his arms came around me and held me close to him. God, I'd missed this feeling. I'd missed him.

"Does a guy really need a reason to drop in on an old friend?" He asked.

I pulled away to give him a doubtful look. "Considering the last time I saw you was, oh I dunno, two months ago I'd say a reason is definitely in order."

He let out a mock sigh of defeat, his arms still wound around my waist. "Alright, alright fine. I need a place to lay low for a while. Maybe just a few days, and you were the first person I thought of." His expression turned earnest as his eyes locked on mine. "And I promise I would've visited a lot sooner if things hadn't been so crazy."

My pulse jumped a little at his words, finding entirely too much pleasure in the fact that he'd come to me for help before anyone else. I knew I couldn't hold his absence against him…I'd seen the news. The Avengers were everywhere. The closest I usually got to Clint these days was watching clips of him firing arrows with practiced ease from the top of a building. "You know you're always welcome here." I finally said, giving him a small smile.

Then he gave me the grin I wasn't quite ready for…the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes in the most adorable way and always made my knees feel a little less steady. His eyes looked at me with a fondness that made me warm all over. He reached up and playfully tugged on a strand of my hair. "You know I misses the hell outta you, right?"

And there went my pulse again, jumpstarting without my permission. Clearly time away had done nothing to stifle my feelings for him. What was that stupid phrase people were always saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well it certainly was pretty damn true in this scenario. I smiled up at him. "I missed you too, arrow guy. Come on in."

I stepped back and let Clint into my tiny apartment. Out of the dim hallway and in the bright, warm light of the kitchen it was easier for me to see how worn out he looked. His shoulders slumped a little and he had dark circles under his eyes that made me believe it'd been a while since he'd had a good night's sleep. I bit my tongue from asking what sort of trouble he was in. Questions later. Right now, what this guy needed was a hot shower and some sleep. And I really did try not to blush at the thought of Clint naked in my shower, but failed miserably.

He slumped down onto the couch with a groan, head falling back against the cushion. His eyes flickered towards the TV screen before shutting. "Friends, huh? You ever try to watch anything else?" He asked, a tiny teasing smile on his lips.

"Watch it, Legolas, or you'll be on the floor tonight." I joked and he chuckled quietly. "Let me grab you a towel and you can get cleaned up."

The only response I got was a soft grunt as I disappeared into the adjoined hallway and rummaged around in the closet for a clean towel. I ducked my head into the bathroom to make sure it was decent and cursed under my breath when I discovered a pair of my panties lying smack dab in the middle of the floor. I grabbed them and flung them through the open door of my bedroom before hurrying back to Clint.

"So you'll have to use all my girly soap but-" I paused mid-sentence at the sound of soft snoring. I crept around the couch to discover Clint was passed out in a dead sleep, head still tilted back onto the cushion and arms crossed over his chest. It took me a minute to shake myself out of standing there and staring at him all heart-eyed and smiling. I couldn't help it, he was adorable. Sleeping Clint was too cute for words, and besides that- for some reason it made me feel good to know that he felt safe enough here, with me, to get some sleep. I pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and gently draped it over him before clicking off the television.

"Night, bird brain." I murmured, pausing to stoop and press a kiss to the top of his head before leaving him to sleep. The dishes and everything else could wait until morning.

As I curled up in my own bed for the night, my thoughts drifted. Back to when I'd been living in downtown New York and Clint was a frequent visitor to my couch. Movie and popcorn nights had been our thing, a tradition hardly ever missed. I think Clint had liked the normalcy of it, being able to feel like a regular person instead of a member of a heroic super gang for a night. We'd come so close so many times back then, flirting dangerously with that intangible, blurry line that kept us from plunging from friendship into something more. Yet I'd always felt like it was a jump we both wanted to take. The way he looked at me, especially when he thought I wasn't looking….friends didn't look at each other like that. Did they?

After I'd moved away, everything had become more unclear than ever. What exactly were we? Was I in love with him? And what about him? How did he feel about me? Still so many questions and not nearly enough answers. I'd laid awake on more than one occasion wondering. Now, with the man in question just in the other room, all those feelings had come crashing over me in full force.

As I slowly drifted off, I promised myself that this time I wouldn't let him leave without telling him how I felt. A sleepy promise, but still.

Friends didn't look at each other like that.


	11. Her Lobster- Clint Barton (Part 2)

Three days had passed and Clint was still sleeping on my couch. I kept waking up, expecting him to have poofed but he was always there. Sometimes sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone with a concentrated expression, or other times out on the balcony and leaning against the rail. Always with a cup of coffee, though. It was like a mug was just permanently glued to his hand. He seemed in no hurry to get back to the city, although I still hadn't been able to wheedle out of him what had happened. He said he didn't want to get me involved, which made sense and was sort of noble, but I still wanted to know.

I trudged up my fifth flight of stairs, out of breath and embarrassingly out of shape. I muttered under my breath, mostly a string of insults aimed at the broken elevator that had yet to be fixed. When I reached my floor, I balanced my paper bag of groceries in one hand and fiddled for my keys in my coat pocket. When I turned the knob and stumbled inside, the first thing I noticed was the silence. My stomach dropped. I hurried into the kitchen and dumped the groceries onto the countertop before calling for Clint. I waited for him to poke his head in from the other room, or to come inside from the balcony but everything was still. I was about to crumble, trying to figure out why he'd abruptly leave without saying goodbye, when I noticed the note taped to the fridge.

'be back soon. don't panic. -clint'

I stared at the familiar scribbled handwriting for a moment before grumbling under my breath and snatching the note off the fridge. "Little late for that, Barton."

Still, I felt a tiny swell of relief trickle through me. For days I'd been trying to get up the nerve to tell Clint about how I felt before he was gone. Each time, I'd chickened out horribly…always changing my mind last minute or finding an excuse to leave the room before I threw myself at him and covered his adorable face in kisses. I let out a breath. Tonight. I'd tell him tonight.

I put away my groceries, replacing the empty bag of coffee grounds with a fresh one, before looking for another task to distract myself until Clint came back from wherever he was. Which was another question that I knew I wouldn't get an answer to. He'd answer it the same way, a cheeky grin and a little roll of his shoulders. I set about making dinner, which was nothing more elaborate than boiling water for noodles and trying to unscrew the cap off a jar of sauce. Except with my weak normal girl who never worked out muscles, it was harder than it sounded. When the cap did finally come off, it was a spectacular event where sauce sloshed all over the front of my shirt and onto the kitchen cabinets.

"Seriously?" I groaned, letting my head fall back onto my shoulders.

I wiped up the sauce on the counters with a dish rag before pulling off my ruined white t-shirt as I headed towards the laundry room. Unsure if it could even be salvaged, I threw it into the washer before scoping out the room for something else to throw on. My eyes zeroed in on a red and white flannel folded neatly on top of the washer…Clint's. I pulled my lower lip in between my teeth for a moment. Would that be weird, I wondered, if he came home to me in his shirt? It seemed a little…domestic. But then again I had already done his laundry. I mentally shook myself. For crying out loud, it was a shirt. I grabbed it off the washer and buttoned it on. It was entirely too long and covered the hem of my jean shorts and I had to roll the sleeves four times before my hands reappeared. Despite the scent of laundry detergent, it somehow still smelled like him. I felt my face grow hot and I pushed the thought away as I hurried back to the kitchen where I could hear my water boiling on the stove.  
By the time I heard the front door open and shut again, I was absentmindedly stirring a pot of sauce, eyes glued on the TV in the living room. Friends. Again.

"Hey! Way to disappear on me!" I called over my shoulder.

"I left a note!" He hollered back, and I grinned a little at the defensive tone in his voice. His heavy footsteps made their way into the kitchen. "I knew that you would freak out if-"

I waited for him to continue, but when he didn't I turned with the sauce spoon in my hand. "If what?"

He was staring at me, eyebrows raised. I watched as his eyes suddenly traveled the length of my body, and while I felt myself immediately start to flush, he seemed totally unabashed by what he was doing. "Is that my shirt?" He finally asked, his voice suddenly much lower.

I swallowed hard. The temperature in the room seemed to have skyrocketed. "Um..yes." I was trying to read his reaction, and didn't want to assume too much…but the way he was suddenly watching me. He usually only did that when he thought I wouldn't notice. "Is that okay? I spilled something on mine earlier…" I trailed off uncertainly. I quickly lifted the shirt to show my shorts. "I have bottoms on, don't worry."

His eyes lingered on my bare legs before finding my face again. He was rubbing the back of his neck, almost nervously. It caught me off guard. I'd never seen Clint nervous before. I couldn't even think of one single time. He was always the cool one, the confident one. Me, on the other hand, it felt like a swarm of bats had suddenly decided to inhabit my stomach. The staring contest between us seemed to go on forever before I finally cleared my throat. "I..um..I can change…?"

"No." He said and when I looked at him in surprise, he swore softly. "Shit, I mean…no, that's okay. It's just that…" He licked his lower lip, like he was carefully choosing his words. "I've pictured you like this about a million times before, Anna. In my shirt."

An atomic bomb could've gone off outside, and I wouldn't have even noticed in that moment. The entire national symphony orchestra could've crammed into my apartment and started conducting a concert, and I still wouldn't have even blinked…okay maybe a little, at that one. But still. I felt dazed as I stood there, blinking at him uncertainly. I wanted to believe I had heard him right, but it was almost too good to be true. "What?" It seemed like the only one syllable word I was capable of.

The expression on his face made my knees want to turn to jelly, and there was suddenly conflict in his eyes before it was quickly resolved and he was looking at me with that renewed confidence I knew so well. "Ah, fuck it." He breathed. And before I could determined what exactly that meant, he was across the kitchen and pushing me back against the counter. I gasped in surprise as his lips found mine. The warmth of his mouth sent a sudden electric current running through me. There was none of the hesitation or uncertainly that often came with first kisses. Instead, his mouth moved against mine with a tenacity and boldness that made my heart pound against my ribcage.

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him back with a longing that had been building inside me since I'd first met him, all those years ago. He deepened the kiss, his tongue running over my lower lip before slipping into my mouth. As my fingers tangled in his short hair, his own hands ran down my shoulders and over my sides until he was gripping my hips tightly. With a quickness that stole the air from my lungs, I felt myself being lifted onto the counter top. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. I was only half aware of how heavy my breathing sounded, too caught up in the way he felt pressed up against me, the way his lips felt on mine and the way his hands seemed to be everywhere all at once. His touch ignited a hunger in me that wanted more more more.

I snuck my hands up the back of his shirt, enjoying the heat of his skin underneath my fingertips. I wanted to keep kissing him forever, and I probably would've had he not suddenly mumbled something against my mouth.

"What?" I breathed, too caught up in how intoxicating he was to be embarrassed by how out of breath I was.

"Something's burning." He mumbled again, his lips leaving mine as he pressed kisses to my chin and jawline.

I hummed in response, feeling a pleasant warmth all over. Then, my sluggish lust-filled brain seemed to wake up and register what he was saying. "Oh crap!" I pushed him away and turned towards the stove on my left. I leaned over and quickly switched off the burner but it was too late. "Shoot." I muttered, peering inside the pot where the once red sauce had blackened and was sticking to the bottom in an unappetizing, lumpy mass.

Clint's laughter caught my attention and I turned back to look at him, my cheeks burning a little remembering what his mouth had been doing to me only seconds before. "Guess we're ordering pizza, babe."

My heart zinged at the casual term of endearment and I ducked my head in a moment of shyness, as a smile stretched my lips. Clint sidled closer again, one finger lifting my chin until I was looking him in the eyes. His lips were swollen from kissing, and the happy glow in his expression was almost too adorable. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long. I'm an ass."

This time it was my turn to laugh. "No, no you're not…I should've told you. Years ago." I said, before adding quietly, "You're my lobster, Clint."  
His lips quirked up into an amused smile, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. Both his hands cupped my face as he looked at me way in a way that I couldn't describe as anything other than adoration and it made me tingle all over with warmth and pure, utter bliss. He brushed his lips over my forehead as I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him into me.

"I'll be anything you want, as long as it's yours."


	12. Feels Like Home- Tony Stark

**Pairing:** Tony/OC

 **Prompts:** #20. "It's raining and I'm in front of your house."

#40. "No, you look good with my shirt on."

#90. "I'm in love with you."

 **Warnings:** None, just some fluff and some making out. The usual way I like to start out a Monday. Smut only implied at the end.

* * *

"You're doing it again."

I snapped my gaze away from the wandering billionaire philanthropist to see a smirking Natasha watching me. My cheeks flushed and I pretended to suddenly be engrossed in stirring the drink in front of me. Using a cocktail straw, I managed to create an alcohol whirlpool inside the pint glass.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I responded, feigning confusion. And doing a horrible job of it. We both knew i knew exactly what she was talking about. I just refused to spend any more time discussing it.

"My ass you don't. He walks into a room and you can't take your eyes off him." Natasha shot back, leaning against the bar with a drink in hand. "I think it's sweet. I don't get it, but it's still sweet." She offered me a teasing smile.

I sighed, setting my glass on the smooth wooden surface of the bar. She was eyeing me with amusement, waiting for me to admit to the embarrassing feelings I was harboring for the man who was also my boss. I kept my mouth shut, though. It was a conversation that always ended the same way: me in sullen silence, refusing to take her advice.

It was her turn to let out an exasperated sigh. She flicked a wadded up cocktail napkin at me. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Brushing past me, Natasha let herself behind the bar. I turned my back on the crowded room behind us, propping my chin in my hands. I hated that she was right. I could argue with her until I was blue in the face, but it didn't change the simple fact that I was entirely and completely head over heels for Tony Stark and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do to save me. I was in too deep and I knew it.

I hadn't meant for it to happen, honestly. When he'd given me the job of head techie, almost two years ago, falling for an egotistical man-child had been the exact opposite of my intentions. He was a genius, but also infuriating. His attention span was the size of a jelly bean and sometimes I'd catch him mentally wandering off in the middle of a conversation. But somewhere along the way, between late night brainstorming sessions and early morning coffee while we tinkered with his latest creations, I got to know the man behind the billionaire. And I had fallen…hard. I'd spent the last year and a half secretly pining after him like a sad little puppy, watching as he schmoozed and flirted with every woman within a ten foot radius. Tonight was no different.

It was one of his usual, over the top parties. I couldn't even remember what we were even supposed to be celebrating. Maybe nothing. For Tony, it didn't seem a celebration really needed a reason anyways. I'd almost bypassed the entire thing, wanting to save myself the pity party, but the man himself had insisted I come. Not to mention Natasha had begged me to have at least a few drinks with her to make the night bearable. So now here I was, sadly drooling over the gorgeous man in the dark suit as he bantered with a pretty brunette in a skin tight dress.

"Why does he always ask me to come if he spends half the night ignoring me?" I wondered out loud.

"He's not ignoring you." Natasha said, setting down two shot glasses. "He's working. Think about it this way…remember that guy in high school, that would invite girls to watch his football practice?"

I raised my eyebrows at her, wondering where this was going, but she wasn't paying attention to me. Instead, she was pouring tequila into the two glasses.

"It's just like that. This is Tony's football practice, and you're the girl he's invited to impress. Only he won't tell you how he feels because, like you, he either doesn't know how or he's just an idiot."

"Wow, that's an impressive metaphor. But I don't think you're right…I think he just likes to flirt. A lot." I said, shaking my head. My time with Tony was divided into many, many different sectors. Sometimes it was all business. Other times it was arguing. Other times it was flirty and suggestive conversation that went absolutely nowhere but always left me painfully confused.

"Trust me, I've seen the way he looks at you." Natasha pushed a shot glass toward me and I wrinkled my nose at the smell of tequila.

I snorted. "And the way he looks at about a hundred other different girls. I'm no different, Nat."

She was already shaking her head, the red curls framing her face bouncing slightly. "No, you are. That's what I keep trying to tell you. He doesn't watch other women the way he watches you. Like you're the most fascinating thing he's ever laid eyes on. Trust me. It's a look I'm envious of." Her voice grew slightly sad.

I knew she meant Bruce. That situation baffled me more than my own, even when I tried to understand his reasoning for staying away from her. He thought he was being protective, but really, he was just hurting her more.

A shot glass was pushed toward me. "Cheers." She raised a glass and waited for me to do the same.

We clinked glasses and I tipped my head back, letting the clear liquid burn its way down the back of my throat. I instantly felt a warmth in my belly that quickly spread through the rest of me. I wrinkled my nose. "I hate tequila."

"You needed that shot." Natasha shrugged. She leaned toward me, crossing her arms over the bar. Her eyes flickered over my shoulder and mischievous smile appeared on her face. "You've got company coming."

And just like that, she walked away. I turned to see none other than Tony Stark sauntering toward me. He was a picture of perfection, so handsome it almost wasn't fair. He was dressed in a gray suit, a pale blue shirt underneath, with a navy blue tie.

"Was wondering where you were hiding." He grinned, leaning up against the bar next to me. His dark hair was tousled just the way I liked it, brown eyes playful.

I was almost ashamed of how fast my pulse was beating just at the sight of him, grinning at me like that. I played it cool and shrugged my shoulders. "When have you not known me to take advantage of an open bar, Stark?"

"Touche." He answered before snatching the shot glass and lifting it to his nose and sniffing. "Tequila. You hate tequila."

I couldn't help but smile at this. He knew me so well. Better than anyone maybe, besides Natasha. "It wasn't my idea."

"Ah," He said knowingly. "And where did our little assassin disappear to anyways?"

I shook my head. "Not a clue, but can I interest you in a refill?" I nodded toward the empty whiskey glass in his hand. Before he could answer, I was leaning over the bar to swipe the whiskey bottle that was chilling in an ice bin just within reach.

"Well this is certainly a view I could get used to."

I rolled my eyes but laughed despite myself, straightening up with the bottle in hand. "You better watch yourself, Stark. I am an employee after all." I teased. "People might start think you're playing favorites or something."

"So what if I am?" He smirked, propping his chin in one hand.

"Banner might get jealous."

He let out a laugh at this, and I let my eyes flicker away from his glass where I was pouring whiskey just so I could see the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. I loved that. "No offense to Bruce, but he's not exactly my type."

I finished pouring his drink and pushed the glass toward him. "What? Big, mean and green?"

"Exactly, never been a big fan of the color green." He wrinkled his nose in mock disgust, making a smile appear on my face. "Besides, have you seen you? You're beautiful."

I ducked my head, letting my hair create a curtain over my face as my cheeks tinged pink. "Shut up, Stark. You're buttering me up for something, aren't you?"

I glanced up in time to see him shrug his shoulders. "Not a damn thing. Just making an observation." His mouth quirked into an adorable half smile and his hand suddenly reached toward me, fingers skimming my warm cheek. "You look cute when you blush."

I raised an eyebrow uncertainly. "Thank you?"

"Don't mention it, gorgeous." He took a sip from his drink, his dark eyes never leaving mine.

His expression shifted, becoming something part curious and something else dark and smoldering that made my stomach flip. Our eyes lingered for entirely too long, like we were having a silent conversation. I wanted to squirm underneath his gaze, and yet I also didn't want to look away.

"You ever wonder what it would be like?" He asked suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"You and me." He answered.

It felt like we were inside a bubble, everyone else disappearing. My heart had sped up and was attempting to break its way out of my chest. Had I heard him correctly? No, I was positive I had. And yet I continued to gape at him stupidly, unsure of how to answer. Unsure of how to do anything. Surely he was joking, or had had too much to drink or something.

"Um."

"Excuse me, Mr. Stark?"

And just like that, the bubble burst as a tall, gray-haired man in an expensive suit interrupted us. Tony continued to look at me for a beat longer, though I saw the annoyance flicker across his face.

"Hold that thought. I'll be right back." He instructed softly.

I nodded mutely as he finally tore his eyes away from me and freed me from whatever the hell spell he had put me under. I sagged back against the bar, gaping after him.

You and me.

The words echoed in my head. It had been such an honest, blunt statement. I really shouldn't have been surprised considering it was Tony. But never once had feelings toward one another ever come up in conversation. Jokingly or not. I made sure of it. The idea of Tony knowing how I felt scared the daylights out of me, and it scared me even more that someone could have so much control over me without even knowing it. I felt suddenly panicked, like the room was too small. I could see Tony, his back to me, in conversation with two other gentlemen. He had asked me to wait, but I couldn't. I didn't want to finish that conversation if it meant feeling the same way I did now, but worse…like I was walking up hill in a snowstorm, chasing after a man who I wasn't sure even really knew I was there. If this was a game we were playing, I didn't want to play anymore.

I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, casting one last glance toward the oblivious billionaire, and leaving.

* * *

By the time I'd gotten home, I'd managed to convince myself that the conversation had meant nothing. That it was just Tony being Tony and my imagination had carried me away. I blamed Natasha and tequila equally. it had started to rain at some point, and I'd gotten soaked making my mad dash from the cab to the yellow painted front door of my house. I'd chosen the color myself. It reminded me of Florida, where I was from. Tony had teased me about it relentlessly, telling me I was the only New Yorker in the city brave enough for a sunshine yellow door.

I felt more calm once I had shed my emerald green cocktail dress and jumped into a warm shower. Wet haired and make-up less, I padded down the hall toward the living room in my sweats and t-shirt. My cell phone was blinking at me from the counter top. Binxy, my cat, meowed loudly at it.

"Who is it, Binx?" I murmured absentmindedly, scratching the cat behind the ears.

I picked up the phone just as it started ringing. My heart leapt into my throat as the name Tony Stark flashed across the screen. My finger hovered over the end button, debating on just ignoring him. I knew Tony, though, which meant he would persistently keep calling until I finally answered.

I cleared my throat and pressed the call button. "Stark?"

"Did I not say I'd be right back?" He asked with a sigh and I could almost imagine him shaking his head.

I shifted from one foot to the other as Binxy purred and rubbed his ears against my hand. "I…I was tired. So I left. Sorry, I should've had Natasha tell you." It was lame, even to my own ears.

"Gimme a break, kid." Tony scoffed. "You ran away. Plain and simple. Was it because of what I said?"

I was silent for a beat too long because he continued after a few moments had passed.

"I take that as a yes. Listen, let me come over. Give me a chance to finish. I mean, it is sort of my fault…I did just blurt it out at you, but only because you've been on my damn mind all day everyday—" He stopped himself just as my nerves had once again started to sing. "So can I?"

I sighed and traced a finger across a crack in the counter. The thought of him inside my house, after everything he had just said was almost too much. My head was spinning. "I don't know, Tony. It's late."

"Alright, let me rephrase that." He began. "It's raining and I'm standing outside your house. Can I come in?"

I straightened up, eyes widened. "What?" I hurried toward the front window and pulled back the lilac curtains. My stomach dropped. Sure enough, there he was. Tony, standing in the pouring rain in one of his nice suits. I stared at him in disbelief and he gave me a wave. "Oh my god, Tony."

"What? Can't a guy show up at a girl's house in the middle of the night in the pouring rain?" He asked playfully. "I'm being spontaneous."

I grumbled into the phone, scrambling toward the front door and pulling it open. "No, you're being an idiot. Get in here, dummy." I said into the phone before ending the call and placing it on the end table near the front door.

Tony slid his own phone into his pocket and hurried toward me, taking the steps two at a time and bypassing me into the house. I closed the door after him, my heart once again beating franticly. I turned around and leaned back agains the door, the wood cold against my skin. I had been poised to say something, but the words vanished as I caught the look on his face. It was almost the same as the one he'd been wearing at the bar, a smoldering, hungry sort of look. And something else…I remembered Natasha's words. Fascinated.

"Is that…" He gestured toward my shirt and I glanced down. My face instantly became hot. I recognized the emblazoned logo of one of his favorite bands and tugged self consciously at the hem. It was slightly worn and too big, but comfy. I hadn't even realized I'd pulled it on…it'd been the first clean shirt in my drawer.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I borrowed it a few weeks ago after I spilled some chemicals on one of mine. I mean to give it back." I rambled, averting my eyes toward the floor before the look on his face made me melt into a puddle.

"No, you look good in my shirt." He answered in a husky voice.

"Let me get you a towel." I stammered and moved to leave the room but he stopped me.

"No, you leave now and I might lose my nerve. Let me get this off my chest before it kills me." I heard him take a step closer and the next thing I knew, his fingers were resting beneath my chin as he gently tilted my face.

He took in a deep breath, looking almost slightly nervous himself. Which was impossible. Tony Stark was never nervous. He was confident, self-assured, at times arrogant and pompous. This was a side I had never seen and it made me adore him even more.

"First of all, Natasha colorfully informed me after you left that I've unintentionally been acting like an ass." He said, eyes boring into mine. I made a quick mental note to either kill or kiss her later depending on how this went. "I wasn't leading you on…the truth is I'm not good at this. I know how to talk the talk and walk the walk, but when it comes to you, I'm at a loss. It's like walking into a room I've never been in before, but feeling like I'm home," He said softly. "You amaze me. You irritate me. God, you make me want to pull my hair out and kiss you at the same time. You're the first thing I think about in the morning and you're on my mind the entire damn day. It's annoying. And you know how you sometimes get angry with me when you're explaining an idea and it looks like I'm not listening? It's only because I'm thinking about how you are the most intelligent, amazing person I've ever known. And it's distracting. So thank yourself for that. But bottom line is…I'm in love with you."

I was waiting for my knees to give out. For my entire body to just collapse because his words were enough to make anyone in their right mind feel a little woozy. A part of me was almost convinced this was a dream, or that I was imagining it. Yet his warm palm cupping my face, his thumb brushing my skin just across my cheek bone, made it real. He was soaking wet, water dripping onto the floor into a puddle, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You gonna say something? Now would be a good time." He said, a soft joking tone to his voice.

"I-I don't know what to say, Tony." I finally answered. "You don't know…I've been crazy about you…" I trailed off suddenly finding it impossible to complete a sentence and he flashed a perfect smile at me in response.

"Say you love me back, dummy." He hinted.

"I love you too." I whispered, the words coming out in a breathy laugh of amazement.

"Knew it." He grinned broadly at me before wasting no time and swooping in to press kiss against my lips.

My body went rigid for a moment, completely shocked, before melting into him. My hands pressed against his chest, feeling both the warmth of his skin and the arc reactor beneath his wet shirt. His mouth moved against mine slowly and purposefully, so much different than the way I had imagined Tony Stark to kiss. There was no rush or urgency…he kissed me like we had all the time in the world.

I felt the front door behind me as Tony pressed his hips into mine. His hands felt like they were everywhere, in my hair, on my waist, brushing against the bare skin beneath my shirt. The front of my clothing was now also damp with rain water, but I was eons away from giving a damn. I was kissing Tony. He loved me. Holy crap.

My fingers dug into his shoulders as his mouth left mine, gliding over my jaw and down to my neck. A whimper escaped me as he nipped at the sensitive skin beneath my earlobe. I could feel that irritating smirk forming on his lips. One of his hands pushed its way up my shirt and the thought was forgotten.

"Tony," I breathed.

"Yeah, baby?" He mumbled against my skin, the tip of his nose brushing against my cheekbone before he captured my lips again.

"Your dripping water all over my floor."

He pulled away, the want in his eyes making me feel a little faint. Damn him. "I just declared my love to you, and your worried about your floor?" He asked, perking an eyebrow.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and grinned mischievously at him before pecking his nose. "No, I'm worried about getting you out of those wet clothes." It was my turn to smirk as I unwrapped his arms from my waist and pushed past him to head down the long hallway.

"You are naughty, you know that?" I heard him say behind me.

I rolled my eyes and glanced behind me, my stomach dipping a little when I saw the predatory way he was watching me. "Are you gonna stand there and talk, or help me get undressed?" I challenged.

I didn't have to ask twice.


End file.
